


A Light in the North

by castaliareed



Series: Lady and the Wolf [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Canon Divergent, Cousin Incest, Eventual Smut, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Incest, Jon Snow is King in the North, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Queen in the North, R plus L equals J, Sex, Smut, The King in The North
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-09-25 13:10:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 64,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9821978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castaliareed/pseuds/castaliareed
Summary: Sansa Stark and Jon Snow have reclaimed Winterfell. The Northern Lords have declared Jon, King in the North and Sansa, Lady of Winterfell. As they rebuild their home, secrets come to light that bring them closer than they ever imagined while threats outside the castle continue to mount.The Lady and the Wolf SeriesSansa Stark and Jon Snow reunited at Castle Black where Sansa convinced her half-brother to help her win back their childhood home, Winterfell. Lady and the Wolf follows them after they have returned home and Jon has been declared King in the North. Together, they begin planning for the war for the dawn and the future of the North. Can their growing bond withstand the secrets, painful revelations, mysterious guests, plots, and the return of their family?





	1. Chapter 1 - Sansa

**Author's Note:**

> I still have at least one more chapter to add to Prelude to Winter. I really wanted to start posting these chapters. So much story to tell. 
> 
> This was the original beginning to Lady and the Wolf before I decided to make it a series. I'm not completely sold on the name for this part (Part 2 of the series). The title may change at some point. 
> 
> Again, this is straight JonSa. The smut will come in a few chapters. You've been warned! ;-)

The snow fell lightly this morning, each day was becoming colder than the next _. Thank goodness, Winterfell is still getting several hours of light each day. A gray light but light._ The ravens had come from Old Town, announcing that winter was no longer coming, winter was here.

Sansa and Jon had been at Winterfell not even a week. It was fitting that the Stark Princess and her bastard half-brother brought winter with them when they retook their home.

Sansa had watched as they took Rickon's body to the crypts the day of the battle. _It is our duty,_ she thought J _on and mine to give him a proper burial_. She must insist on giving him the rites and honoring their brother today. It had been put it off far too long.

Jon was declared King in the North the two days after the battle. After which he immediately gave her the title, Lady of Winterfell, Princess in the North. The lost bannermen were sent home to their families with instructions to burn all bodies. The Bolton's dead had been burned 2 days ago. It was time to put the battle behind them for there was sure to be more to come.

Now, Sansa stood observing Jon this morning with snowflakes swirling around her as she had been doing for the past three. Still exhausted from the battle, yet he practiced furiously with a grace she had never witnessed in any swordsman. Maybe, it was that Sansa had never noticed his fighting before. As children, she had spent time with her needles, unlike Arya who wanted to fight as much as the boys. _What good will my needles do me now?_ She never had a taste for blood but when she watched the Knights of the Vale ride into battle she wished she had learned to carry a sword like Brienne or her sister. When they set Ramsey's dogs on him, she imagined herself, Lady reborn tearing his face apart.

So she watched her brother, studying his movements. She wanted to feel safe here at Winterfell with Jon. She knew they were not safe. Not with Littlefinger here inside their walls, Cersei in the south and whatever Jon insists is on the other side of the wall moving towards the realm.

Leaving the battlements, walking to the great hall where the pair had taken to breaking their fast before the others. Littlefinger has stayed on while his troops recover. Lord Davos is here and many of the bannermen including the little bear, Lyanna Mormont who reminded her so much of Arya. Sansa was glad to have them yet she was not at ease amongst these advisors. It is easier to speak with Jon when the castle was quiet. Her plan was to speak with him this morning about Rickon. _It must be done._

Jon entered the hall just after she did taking his place across from her. This was becoming the best part of her day. The gray winter light came in through the great windows soon this would be the only light they would get after that there would be no light at all. It reflected on Jon's dark curls that he pulled back from his face much like their father. Was this what my mother saw when they were young? Sansa wondered.

"Did I win the battle this morning?" He greeted her with a half smile.

"You saw me?" she asked.

"Hard to miss that red hair." He laughed. "It's brighter than the sun these days. Might blind me if I'm not careful."

"I want to make sure you don't mistake a bannerman for a battering dummy," she claimed. 

"Well, I will if ya blind me," he responded. 

They both smiled and laughed. Sitting there with him, Sansa could almost pretend all of the horrible things had never happened. That they were like her mother and father before she went to the capital. Thinking of her parents brought her back to Rickon. His body laying in the cold dark crypt in the place that had been designated for him next to his father's place, Robb's, both still empty, and the spot left for Bran.

"Jon we must give Rickon the proper rights. We are all he had left." Sansa continued,  "It is our duty."

"I know," Jon replied. 

"He is in the crypt. His body has been washed. The stonemason will come today to bring the marker." Sansa said not relenting without a firm answer from him. 

"I know," he said again. 

Sansa looked at him firmly. "Today," she added. 

"I know," his voice growing tense.

"We can't wait to find Arya and Bran even if they are still alive. This is our family," she pressed on, He just stared back at her and continued to push the food around on his plate. Food he hardly ate just pushed around. Sansa was no longer a child, the horrors she had experienced gave her a command in her requests. Jon could hardly refuse no matter how much he did not want to go down to the crypts.

"Today," he said, softly.

Sansa realized Jon was scared of the crypts. They had played there as children and she had been the one who was afraid. She didn't like it when her Lord Father made them go down to pay their respects to their ancestors. She had been so jealous father never made him come with them. She thought it was because he was a bastard.  When they were children he was never afraid now as a man so brave in every other way he was afraid of the crypts. She almost laughed to herself.

"I didn't like the crypts when we were young. I was jealous, Father never made you go down." Sansa said with kindness trying to ease his discomfort. 

She gazed at the sad smile Jon gave her while he was getting up from the table just as Littlefinger and Lord Davos were entering the hall.

As he leaned over her to kiss her forehead and take his leave, like a conspirator, whispering she added, "And I'd be afraid to go down there if I had come back from the dead too. The crypts might decide they want you back."

"And what would you do if they did?" he asked slyly.

"I'd set a pack of dogs on anyone who tries to take you," she responded. 

At that they both smiled "Today," he said running his hand from the top of her head. Touching her hair slightly.

The gesture only lasted a moment, Sansa wished it could last longer. Yet, the risk was too great. Sansa knew Littlefinger must not see her too comfortable around Jon. She feared what he would do to both of them if he thought she was closer to Jon then to him. She no longer had any friends, no one to laugh with or share secrets with. Jeyne Poole was long gone, Queen Margaery had been her friend, well maybe not a friend at least she had been a friendly person to talk with. It pained her to think what had happened to the young Queen and her brother. _That will not be us. We will freeze in the winter snow before we burn._

Littlefinger had entered the room and took a place across from Sansa at the table watching Jon as he walked out of the hall. She can see it now in his slyness, his false praise, he hates Jon, he hates their family. Everyone who wasn't her Mother, every Stark that took Lady Catelyn from him. For that matter, Sansa reflected that her lady mother would be full of hate to see Jon declared King in the North while two of her sons were dead in the ground. Or maybe she would blame herself. There are days Sansa wonders if it was Catelyn's hatred of Jon that brought this on their family. _If Jon would've been with Robb maybe they had would've lived._ Then she sees Littlefinger sitting at the table cutting his bread and remembers nothing is that simple.

"Lord Baelish, Lord Davos, we will give Rickon the proper rights today," she said.

"That is good, Princess. Your brother deserves an honorable place with the kings and lords of Winterfell after the horrors he must have seen." Lord Davos said in that kindly way of his.

"The resting place of kings and lords and Lyanna Stark." reminded Littlefinger. "I always wondered why Ned Stark felt she deserved a place there. She wasn't a queen or even a princess." Looking at Sansa while he spoke, "And yet she rests among the great kings of Winter."

Sansa said nothing at that and got up to leave. He was right she thought. What right does Lyanna have to lay there with a statue to honor her? He is trying to provoke her, trying to make her hate her own father. To question her family. Cersei, Joffrey, they had all tried to make her hate her family. Family, Duty, Honor, her lady mother's house words were constants in Sansa's mind. Except, they were her lady mother's words not hers. Sansa never felt more like a Stark than now, now that winter was here. _The pack survives even in death. Lyanna is part of our pack. That is why Father put her down there._

The morning wore on painfully slow. Taking to overseeing the castle repairs, there was much for Sansa to do before the blizzards come and it is too cold to work. Jon oversees their bannermen and his own forces, drilling them every morning, seeing to their needs. Brother and sister together take stock of the grain and the finances. None of this was her strong suit, despite all she has become a quick study. Necessity has brought out a side of the Princess she never thought she had. Sansa thought as she walked the halls that she was not meant for this. She was meant to look pretty, host parties, and bare children. Here she was though a lady, no a princess of this ancient castle with responsibilities to the people not only within its walls but in all the North. In the afternoons, they discuss the future and how to protect the north from their enemies usually with Lord Davos, Lady Mormont and on occasion Littlefinger and the wildling leader Tormund Giantsbane. Sansa has insisted Jon take her into his confidence.  After the others leave they study strategy or write letters quietly. This afternoon instead of battle plans they will bury Rickon.

As Sansa was walking to Jon's solar that afternoon, she saw Lord Davos approaching her. He looked pensive as he stopped just outside Jon's door.

"May I ask you a favor, Princess?" he asked.

"Yes, of course" she replied.

"The crypts of Winterfell are for kings and lords and ladies. Could you find a small space for a princess without a place to rest?" he continued.

"You friend, Princess Shireen.?" she asked.

"She died here in the north. I fear I will never make it back to Dragonstone to give her a proper burial." Holding out a small wooden stag, Davos said, "This is all that is left of her."

Tears began to well in Sansa's eyes, how cruel a world it was that a father would burn his own daughter. Now, her one friend wanted to see that she was honored.

"Of course. She was a princess who died on our lands. She must be honored." Sansa stated. " It was my father's wish that the Stark and Baratheon houses be joined even if it is only in death. I will look for a proper place in the crypts for her. You can honor her tomorrow." Sansa said as she rested a hand on the onion knights arm.

Sansa and Jon walked slowly to the crypt with Ghost following them. She teased him, "Which do you like least going to the crypt or getting your hair cut?" He laughed at that and grabbed her hand. His was warm and she felt a tingle, the same one she feels when he kisses her forehead or touches her hair each morning. _You aren't supposed to feel this for a brother or even a "half brother"_ so she tried to put the thoughts out of her head. Just the last remnants of the girl she used to be, the girl who dreamed of marrying a king and of being a queen.

Or maybe it was because we were distant as children. She kept away because of her mother, her septa, and was sorry for that now. Now that she knew what it is to have lost a mother, the emptiness that is inside you. They were the only ones left, she wished she could fill the emptiness for both of them.

The crypts were dark with torches lighting the arched tunnels. They passed the Kings of Winter and Lords of Winterfell finally coming to the place for her family. They looked upon Rickon, lit the candles, said the words, then moved to light a candle for their father whose statue was there but not his bones.

"When we were children, I begged father not to take me. That my dresses would get dirty." Sansa confided to Jon. "Now, I come to see him even though he is not really here. I wish we could bury my lady mother, too. So, I could see her. To not know where she lays. Is she at peace or a ghost haunting the countryside?" She turned toward Jon "I never understood what it was like for you. I thought maybe it was your fault that you didn't have a mother, that my mother was angry. Then I blamed our father. Now I miss them both." She felt Jon's hands moving along her arms.

"I miss our family, too," he told her. 

"I'm so sorry Jon." she continued as they paused at Lyanna's statue.

"For what?" he asked.

"Everything that has happened to us," Sansa said.

He cupped her face with both his hands looking straight into her eyes. Eyes so like father's and Arya's yet completely his own. If only he would keep holding her face like that never letting go. _What was this feeling?_ It was confusing, he was her half-brother. Their faces were so close. If she just leaned forward a little they would be kissing.

"None of it was your fault," he said firmly. "We were just children. Father made his choice, your mother her's. My mother her's." Holding and staring into her eyes. Suddenly, Sansa felt him let go if remembering she was his half-sister.

As they walked away toward the entrance, Sansa turned back to look at Lyanna's image. Something caught the light, twinkling. Tiny drops of water like tears streaming down her face. From deeper in the crypt, Sansa heard the sound of a rock drop.

"What was that?" Jon said startled.

She walked toward the sound as if she was being pulled. One entrance to part of the crypt had long since caved in. It was only a rock that had fallen from that wall forming the perfect small shelf. Placing a hand on the shelf, one could peer into the hole that had been left by the falling rock. Sansa thought she saw an empty room with something laying in the corner.

"Sansa, we need to leave" he called to her anxiously.

Turning away, she quickly ran to join him up into what was left of the cold afternoon light. That night she fell asleep in her lady mother and lord father's room with the thought of Jon's warm hands on her cheeks, in her hair, his kisses on her forehead. She woke sweating, breathing heavily. Jon was doing the things Ramsey did to her only it didn't hurt, only she liked it, she wanted it.

That morning she laid in bed, going to breakfast later than usual, arriving as Jon was leaving.

"You wear yourself out last night?" he joked.

"Very funny," Sansa said hesitantly.

"Ahh a princess needs her beauty rest every once in awhile. I gave those dummies an extra good beating for you this morning. I think they missed ya, though." He said lightly.

Jon left Sansa to eat by herself lost in her own thoughts. As she was leaving she passed Lord Davos.

"There is a little outcrop in the fallen wall. You can honor your princess there," she whispered gently to him, "Go, pay your respects."

"Thank you, Princess Sansa, you are truly kind," Lord Davos replied. Sansa thought as she watched him enter the great hall, _Yes, I will be kind. The smallest kindness can inspire  the greatest loyalty._ _I will make them love me._


	2. Chapter 2 - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Jon uncover secrets in the darkest of places. 
> 
> Before Lady and the Wolf was a series this was simply Chapter 2. Now is the second Chapter of Part 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I first wrote this in December. Every time, I come back to this chapter, I seem to re-write parts and make corrections. I think it is finally coming together. 
> 
> I'm trying to find a balance between a Jon that is "kind, gentle, strong, and brave" and the Dark Jon that would come from his resurrection and possible PTSD from the battles. Can he be both?

A raven from Sam came that afternoon while Jon was working at what had been his Lord father's desk. It seemed as soon as he sent one raven, Sam replied. Jon's friend was learning so much in Old Town. Each letter filled with more information on Westerosi history. Mostly, Jon wanted Sam to uncover anything to be found on the others, White Walkers. Where they came from? How to fight them? What to do? Many of the books at Winterfell had burned or been destroyed and there was no time to get new ones. Sam was the main source of information. He also sent details about Littlefinger for Sansa who seemed especially keen to learn anything she could about Lord Baelish's businesses. Jon wondered what she was after. What secret she wanted to uncover. 

It was dangerous to go about it this way but there were few other options. The friends had developed a code to communicate with. It had taken a full 7 ravens back and forth to build out the secret language each message written in code with changes to be added to create an updated version of the code. Recently, Sam had been finding information about the famous tournament at Harrenhal, Jon's Lord father had been there and so had half the realm, including Littlefinger. That was when all the trouble started for the Stark family.

There was other news, Cersei, now queen in her own right, was ruling by fear and preparing her armies for battle against the girl they called the mother of dragons. Jon knew the North would need whoever was on the Iron Throne's help when the Others come. He hoped it would be the Targaryen, dragons may be just the advantage that could save the realm. Jon worked late that night finishing letters to the northern houses and finally decoding Sam's letter.

Hearing light footsteps, Jon looked up to see Sansa glide past the door. "Come in" he called out. Happy to see her and have a reason to look up from the scrolls that littered the desk.

"You missed dinner. I brought you something,"  she said carry a tray with her. "Another raven from your friend, Sam?" she asked him glancing down at the desk. 

"Yes, shut the door," he told her. 

"Eat," she said walking towards the door to shut it before returning to his side.  As Jon started to eat the bread and meat, he felt Sansa standing behind him looking over the documents. Her hand lightly on his shoulder. "What good will you be in battle if all you do is read scrolls and forget to eat your dinner."

Jon bit into the warm meat and bread she had brought. It's true he would often forget to eat his evening meal. He wasn't that hungry. He was never that hungry. "Sam says he has located the books on how to make valyrian steel. It is not easy..." Jon explained taking another bite of food, suddenly imagining what it would be like to take a bite of her.

"We don't need valyrian steel to take Cersei's head," Sansa looked annoyed. "Or Littlefinger's for that matter," she added under her breath. 

"We need it to fight the white walkers," he reminded her doing his best to ignore the mention of Cersei or Lord Baelish. She does her best to hide her hatred, he thought. 

"I don't see them, yet," she said matter of factly. 

"We have to be prepared," Jon replied. He understood that he must convince Sansa of the threat. She had indulged to a point but only to a point. 

She softened, "Jon, if we dont kill Cersei, neither of us will live long enough to see the white walkers. She is mad. And if this mother of dragon's was not at her doorstep she would've sent Jamie Lannister with my Lady mother's own family's troops from Riverrun to take us both. They may even be marching here as we speak."

"The Bolton's were one thing. We don't have enough men to take a Lannister army even with all the houses in the North and the Vale." Jon said as he watched her pace the length of the room in front of the hearth. _She was so earnest and she had proven herself._

Getting up to stop her nervous pacing, Jon placed his hands on her arms. "Sansa, let these southern Queens fight amongst themselves," he said to her. "I would love to see every Lannister hang for what they've done. We can not ask our people to sacrifice anymore..not in winter. You've said so yourself."

Sansa thought hard. "Brienne knows Jaime...maybe...we don't have to lose any.."

At that there were slow heavy footsteps at the door, heavy breathing that seemed to hesitate as they approach, then a knock.

"Who's there?" Jon reached for his sword ever ready for an attack even within the safe walls of Winterfell. He saw Sansa tense and Ghost's ears stand alert.

Lord Davos's slowly spoke, "Your grace might I come in?" They breathed a sigh of relief, all relaxed.

"Yes, just taking the meal I missed," Jon responded. 

"Excuse me, my lady. Might I have a word with his grace?" Lord Davos said as he entered the room and saw that Sansa was with the King in the North. 

Jon saw that Sansa looked at him. They had agreed to have no secrets especially when it came to Davos and Littlefinger. Davos, they were beginning to trust even like a bit. Still he was Stannis's man which required them to be cautious. 

"Sansa can stay, Lord Davos. I have no secrets from my Princess," Jon said. He noticed a slight smile on Sansa's face when he called her his Princess. _That was a mistake._ _Sister, I meant to say sister._ Truly, she is my half-sister. _I've never called her half-sister. Maybe that would sound better._  Sansa felt less and less a little sister to him and more a Princess each day that passed at Winterfell.

"We were just talking about what to do with Cersei Lannister...maybe you could...Is there something wrong?" Sansa began to say to Lord Davos who looked around the room then down the hall before carefully shutting the heavy door. Jon kept his hand on his sword, something in the Onion Knight's manner was touched.

"I'm sorry your grace. I think there is something...I'm not sure...I'm not very good with letters.." he started to say. 

"What are you talking about..did a raven come for you?" Jon asked.

"Your grace, I was down in the crypt to pay my respects. Princess Sansa had said I could place what was left of the little princess there. Her stag, At least her memory could rest with kings and lords and well I don't know...." Lord Davos rambled. 

Jon became slightly, annoyed that Sansa had not mentioned this. It was just a child's toy, still they had agreed to tell each other everything.

Sansa looked at him, "I forgot," she mouthed to Jon looking frustrated with Davos. His devotion to the Baratheon girl was honorable, a terrible fate had befallen her. Though his demeanor this evening and coming to see Jon about something so trivial as a little girl's toy was about to get him kicked out of the room especially for interrupting Jon's time with Sansa.

"You see the little princess, was teaching me to read," he said. Jon thought, _the man can sure_ could _go on_ about _that girl._  Then he chided himself for thinking ill thoughts about a child that had died so horribly. 

"Yes, yes.." Jon and Sansa looked at each other.

"There was this outcrop on the fallen wall. The perfect little shelf, out of the way. The one you mentioned Princess," Davos said.

It was the place where the rocks had fallen yesterday. Before he realized it, Jon started to get a sick feeling deep in his stomach.

"When I placed the stag there more rocks fell," he continued. "I didn't mean to disturb anything."

Jon's nightmares flashed before his eyes. This is why he hated the crypts, whatever was lurking down there he did not want to know. He felt his body move back towards a dark corner of the room. Something deep inside him starting to rise the fear taking over, forcing it out of his body. 

"What did you see?" Sansa asked. _No, Sansa we do not want to know this._  

"There was something leaning up against a wall, looked like a headstone not very old. Engraved but not used. Prepared, ready...another place for someone," Davos described. 

"Why would there be another place for someone, Lord Davos?" Sansa asked, "Our lord father had places made for himself and his true-born sons."

Jon added speaking from his dark corner trying to keep control of his voice, "There are only places left for Robb's body and Bran. There are no other empty places in the crypt not for Sansa, not for me." _It is not for us._

"That may not be the case, your grace. There was a name." Davos said as he looked at Jon, "I think..I'm not sure...I can't read very well..I brought the light. Still it was hard."

"What did it say.?" Jon growled, loosing his patience. The animal instinct rising from the pit of his stomach. _Stay down_  he thought. 

"The little princess taught me if you rub a crayon you can copy the words. I went back tonight.  I didn't think you would believe me if I just told you, your grace" he answered. 

Jon stared at the man fixated on him like a wolf standing down a rival. Despite this, Davos seemed to regain some of his composure.

"And this is something you will want to see your grace...I was never very good reading Targaryen names..." Davos placed the piece of rubbing on the desk urging Jon to come out of his corner and see it. "Here, I believe it means you're not a lord of Winterfell but a King of the seven kingdoms" he trailed off...

Jon looked down at the paper rubbing of the headstone. Eyes widening, he stopped hearing, stopped seeing as he leaned over the desk staring at the paper Davos had placed there. Sansa stood next to him her mouth wide reading the words. His head began to throb and the rage rose up from his stomach taking over his whole body. _Jon Snow_ _son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Princess Consort Lyanna Stark_ it read. 

Jumping from behind the desk he put his sword to Davos throat.

Jon growled in a deep voice, "Are you fucking with me old man? I'll kill you! Did Littlefinger put you up to this."

"No, No, No" Davos responded.

"Jon, STOP!" Sansa cried. Jon barely felt her try to pull him off the onion knight.

"I swear I will kill him," Jon said to his sister. 

"Jon, go see for yourself," Sansa urged trying to diffuse the situation. 

"Take us! If you are lying old man, I swear to you...you will wish the others had found you first," Jon commanded. 

They walked slowly toward the crypts Jon pressing a dagger to Davos' back. He had wanted to use his sword but Sansa convinced him marching Lord Seaworth to the crypts with Longclaw to his back might raise questions amongst the many lords, soldiers, servants and others encamped at the castle. Sansa followed the two men along with Ghost. At the top of the entrance, Jon told her to wait.

"I don't want you to have to see me kill him," he said in complete seriousness, then he gave her the dagger. "In case anyone comes." As he started down the stairs he turned back staring at Sansa seeing both confusion and worry in her eyes. "Ghost stay," Jon commanded the direwolf,  who would protect any of the Stark children.

Slowly, Jon pushed Davos down the winding stairs a torch in one hand and Longclaw now held low in the hand that had held the dagger. That sick feeling came back. He was not supposed to be down here. Walking further past the statues of the Kings of the North with their stern faces to the fallen wall which now had a much larger hole in it. There was a space barely big enough for one man at a time to walk through. Looking through the dark hole you could barely see a headstone. As they got closer, Jon could still not see words in the darkness of the crypts. Breathing heavily, he pushed Davos through the hole first before following him. Davos stood with his head down in silence next to the headstone. Jon moved and held the torch close to the letters spelling his name at the top _Jon Snow_ with an inscription beneath that read _son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Princess Consort Lyanna Stark_. It seemed as if long minutes passed before Jon Snow even breathed. All time stopped for him, all thoughts, only Rhaegar, only Lyanna.

"Are you alright my grace?" Davos asked.

"GO" he said.

"Your grace, please don't do anything rash." Lord Davos begged him. 

"I said 'GO'" Jon yelled. 

Jon could barely hear the muffled voices of Sansa speaking with Davos near the entrance of this wing of the crypts. Only later would Sansa tell him that she had followed them down and she might have told Davos to forget what he saw if he valued his life.

And again he repeated, "Everyone knows I'm not good with letters my lady." From that day forward Davos would be one of their truest friends. Ghost still guarding the entrance rubbed against the man as he passed leaving the two rulers of Winterfell to their own contemplation.

"Jon," Sansa whispered softly approaching through the hole in the fallen rock wall. He didn't hear till she was standing next to his kneeling form.

"Jon say something," she leaned over gently touching his shoulder.

"Why?" he looked at her. "Why is this here?"

The look of revelation on Sansa's face, "Rob used to say the night you fell ill with a fever before I was born when it was just you and him at Winterfell. Everyone thought you would die. That night Father went to the stonemason to make you a small headstone..it was winter and a blizzard was coming. If the blizzard came and you died without a headstone...it may have been months, years before a proper burial. But you didn't die. I supposed Father wanted to leave a place for you."

"NO" Jon turned to her pointing to the names "Why is this here." pointing to the inscription. "This says he's not my father."

"Did you know," Jon accused her while standing up to face her.

"How could I know. How could any of us know?" Sansa now looked even more confused. "This was hidden behind a rock wall that's been here since before we could walk."

The anger rising in his voice. He walked past her and through the hole with his sword still in his hand Jon started hitting at the stones statues. At the stone grandfathers and uncles, at Ned Stark, he stopped hearing Sansa's cries and screams as he hacked into the statue of Ned Stark sparks flying with each strike of valyrian steel against stone. He was screaming "Why did you lie to me." again and again tears of rage pouring down his face.

Jon filled with so much rage and anger turned with his sword raised towards Lyanna's statue, his mother. He stopped long enough to see the real ice cold tears pouring down the statue's face. In that moment, with his sword still raised, Sansa lunged at Jon knocking him off balance. He heard her scream "That is your mother."  With that, he fell to his knees taking Sansa with him to the ground. Crying longer and harder than any time in his life. 

He did not notice Sansa crawl into a sitting position next to him while she held him at the foot of Lyanna's statue. And they wept until he could no longer tell who's tears were falling in pools on the ground, Jon's, his mother's or his Princess's.

Soon, exhaustion took over and he could no longer cry, or speak. Sansa continued to hold him, rocking back and forth, stroking his black hair that had become wet from the tears.

The realization came to Sansa first or maybe he thought she was just trying to comfort him, "They did it to save you. Father, I mean, Lord Stark, still raised you, he gave up his honor to protect you to save you from Robert." Sansa spoke so low into Jon's ear, her voice horse from crying. "He loved you, he loved Lyanna, I know it. He must have, to keep it a secret, He must have loved you more then any father could and I will do the same."

Jon looked up at her seeing tears again begin to roll down her face as if he had given his burden to her. "I'm so sorry," she said over and over. "For everything, for everything."

"Shhhh" touching her tears with his fingers. _She does not need this._ Her face was so close to his. "I knew nothing. None of us knew anything." He said before looking down again. 

Through her tears, "And now we are the only ones who know everything...they are all gone," she said.

Before Jon realized it, Sansa had leaned closer to kiss his forehead as he had done to her so many times. He had already begun to lift his head again towards her. Jon did not try to kiss her, it happened in that moment.  At first, she kissed him back with the most bittersweet kiss he ever tasted full of love and sadness and hope and pain all mixed. Neither parted until the full enormity of everything, everything that happened, that had been learned, hit. She pushed him back. Jon stared at her breathing heavily. _She only meant to kiss my forehead. That was a mistake._ He felt the rise in his stomach, the urge to pull her back towards him. _No, no this is Sansa. She is a Princess, she is...what is she to me._

"What is happening," she said her eyes full of confusion. "You're my...I don't know...You're Jon," She got up and ran out the entrance.

"Sansa, wait. Please" Jon heard her footsteps run up the stairs. He imagined her running across the courtyard, entering our, no her parent's room, falling into the bed. Crying herself to sleep. Or maybe that is what she told him later about that night.

Jon stayed at the crypt alone at the foot of his mother's statue until the darkest hours of the night when Ghost finally nudged him. They walked together two ghosts to his room. Jon barely slept that night and in the morning rose knowing that this time what had happened in the crypts was not a dream.


	3. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa knows she must speak with Jon about the revelation in the crypts and the kiss they shared. When he finally comes to her, she can no longer hide her desire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote the first version of this awhile ago. Re-writing it was not easy. I still feel Jon would be a little more torn about the whole thing. Although, this is Sansa's POV and we know he's powerless when it comes to her!
> 
> And who knows I may re-write this chapter many more times...

**Sansa**

It had been almost two days since the revelation in the crypt. Nothing had been spoken certainly not by Davos, nor by Sansa, or Jon. Sansa had spent long hours with her needlework lost in the small stitches of the direwolf she was stitching, only leaving her room to deal with castle matters.

Sansa had hoped he would come to her the night before. When Jon did not, she chastised herself for wanting him to come. _Silly girl, why do you even want him to see you._ To do what? To speak with you. She even ventured out of her room earlier in the evening stopping by his solar. He was sat staring into the fire. He did not even hear her footsteps or look up as she waited at the door. _Stupid girl, he does not want to speak to you._ He wants to pretend this did not happen. She walked away with her head down not seeing that he looked over at her as she left. His eyes willing her to come back.

Back in her room, the room that had once belonged to her Lady Mother, Sansa had a bath prepared hoping that would ease her worries. Maybe after a bath and a clean dress she would have the courage to try to speak to Jon again. Telling her handmaid to leave. She eased herself into the warm water slowly scrubbing her arms, legs, and body with lavender scented soap before closing her eyes allowing her mind to relax. She imaged running with Lady, her lost direwolf, through the Godswood playing with her wolf brothers and sister. Footsteps at the door brought her back to the warm dark bedroom at Winterfell. For a moment she felt her stomach turn in anticipation, she knew it was Jon.

"Are you going to just stand there or are you going to come in?" she called out. 

Hearing the door open, feeling the cold air from the hall enter the room, she sat as completely still as possible in the water. Looking out the window the tub was facing, she watched a snowy owl perched outside. Her back was to him showing off the shape of her white shoulders, auburn hair falling over them and floating in the water. _Is he looking or trying not to stare_. Sansa was so nervous she couldn't turn and face him.

Surprised to find her in the bath, Jon said, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were...I'll come back later."

"No," she said still facing the window, "It's fine. I sent my lady's maid away and Brienne, too. I wanted to be alone."

"Then, I should leave you alone." he said sounding nervous.

"It's ok, I don't want to be alone anymore," she assured him slightly turning her face, so he could just barely see her profile. "I was just finishing," she added.

Jon didn't know what to do with himself shuffling in place, trying to remember why he stopped at her door.

Finally, his words seemed to find his mouth, "I'm sorry about what happened in the crypt. I didn't mean to try and kiss you." he apologized. 

"You didn't want to kiss me?" Sansa asked softly.

"No...I did...you are my...I don't know what we are anymore..." Then he said what she had feared, "I can't stay here. At Winterfell. I'm not a Stark, I'm not even a Snow."

With that Sansa turned her head even more sharply. The winter moonlight from the window pouring into the room, illuminating the profile of her delicate face. _This is what I feared. He thinks he has to leave._ "The headstone said 'Jon Snow,'" she responded, her voice firm.

"When the northern lords find out. They will brand me a liar, maybe even a traitor," the King in the North said.

"Who will be telling them?" she slowly rose out of the tub her nerves now turned to determination, water streaming down her back, her bum, her legs. Jon said nothing in response. Instead, she felt him staring at her. Sansa was still facing the window too fearful to look back at him, to let him see her fully.   _It should be wrong to feel this way._ Yet, it felt right that they should be cousins, lovers. _Except, the truth is...the truth is I wouldn't have cared if we were still half-brother and sister_. _I would still want you, Jon Snow._ The thought was almost enough to stop Sansa.

Facing the window, Sansa reached for a soft towel. Drying only slightly, she hardly needed it, the room was warm from the hot springs and the fire in the hearth. Dropping the towel, she picked up her black robe with gold embroidered vines along the sleeves and front panels. A thick gray wolf fur trim ran along the edges of the elegant robe. On the back, she had embroidered a howling white direwolf like Ghost. There with moonlight engulfing her frame wearing the white wolf on her back, she truly was regal, the queen of winter. With the robe over her shoulders, Sansa's boldness grew and she turned to face Jon. 

Walking slowly toward him with the front of her black and gold robe open just so he could see the curves of her cleavage, her stomach, and the wisps of hair covering her lady parts, Sansa repeated the question. 

"Who will be telling them?" she asked again.

Stumbling for the words, he forced himself to look straight into her eyes, "It's not right. It's not right to lie to the people of the north," Jon claimed.

"So you will tell them and ride off?" Sansa asked."Leaving me?"

"You are home, now," he said. "I'll make sure your safe before I...before I go." 

She looked directly at him, they were almost touching now. His eyes left her face and moved down to the open robe, his breath growing heavy. At that, she pulled the robe closed just slightly before grabbing his arm trying to talk sense to him.

"If you go south, Cersei will have your head before you get to Riverrun. If you go north the lords will brand you a coward and have your head before you reach the Gift." Sansa pointed out before adding, " And then you will leave me here with Littlefinger?"

He just kept staring at her the uncertainty of what to do or say clear on his face. _You want this Jon Snow. You want me._

"Even if we did tell the lords, who will believe it? The only proof is an old tombstone. Could've have been made by anyone they will say." Sansa added. 

"We'll get more proof," he told her. "There must be something at the Citadel. Someone who knows."

She looked at him saying, "Our enemies will accuse you of wanting to sit on the Iron Throne."

"I don't want to sit on any throne." he replied firmly, "You know what it said is true. It feels true."

Slowly walking behind him. "What is truth," Sansa whispered in his ear as she leaned against his back. Moving her hand down his arm, she noticed his raw scared hands. One still showing burn marks. He grimaced when she touched them, she could see he was in pain.

"Some things are true," he said.

Ignoring his last comment, she focused on his hands. "We need to wash these. Get in the bath," she commanded. 

"Sansa..." he said. His head moved toward hers but she had already moved further behind him reaching her arms around him to unfasten his breeches. They fell to his knees. Where had this courage come from? _I have never been so bold._ Stepping out of his boots and pants he let her gently nudge him toward the bath. His shirt hung long covering his cock. 

"The water is still warm," she said kindly. "It will be good for your sore muscles, too." Sansa was too nervous to look at him. She was sure he must have felt her hand shake when she touched his waist.

"Get in," she told him. She saw him hesitate. "I won't look if you don't want me too. You're just taking a bath," she tried to reassure him and he finally acquiesced to the Princess's orders. _We can pretend this is nothing._

As he slid down into the tub, Sansa helped pull his lose tunic over his head. Her hands running up and down his strong back stopping just above the curve of his bum. Every inch of him beautiful, even the knife wounds that crisscrossed his back, so many she couldn't count. _How could he have survived such a brutal_ _attack?_   _Except he didn't survive._ _He was brought back_. 

Sansa could feel her heart breaking for him for everything he had suffered alone. _We cannot be alone again. We are all each other has._ Jon sat in the warm water letting her run a rag over his arms while she knelt beside the tub.

First, Sansa washed his wounded calloused hands, then began working her way around his body up his arms to his lean strong shoulders then around to his neck. His body was lean and muscular not so tall though not small. 

In the dark and warm room, Sansa leaned in close to her king, her lips barely touched his neck just below his ears. "You are the King in the North," she said. "The people chose you because they believe in you, the need you, the north needs you, I need you."

"Oh, Sansa" he whispered. "I'm not...I have no rights to it, to the North, to you." She could hear the anguish in his voice. 

"Jon, they say it will be a long winter. You have told me what comes from the North with the cold. We know our enemies to the South," she said. "What will rights matter in these wars to come." 

"We shouldn't," he said.

"You said it feels true," she responded. "How does this feel?"

She began softly kissing his neck. He did not stop her. She wanted to cover him in kisses. Running the rag down his chest her arms in the water washing his stomach, hip bones, thighs. She moved the rag all over his body until finally, she found his cock like a sword in her hands. She slowly began to move her long slim fingers up and down. He leaned his head back, his eyes closed, his breath heavier and heavier. Arms reaching up toward Sansa's face, his calloused hands getting tangled in her hair.

"Stand up," Sansa told him as her nerves fell away and her voice took on a commanding tone that she scarcely recognized. They both stood as Jon got out of the bath. Turning to face her, grabbing her arms, he kissed Sansa with such strength and sweetness. His hands went inside her open robe moving to her breasts. Not meaning to, she backed away just slightly. The thought of Ramsey flashed in her mind, of Ramsey hitting her, violently grabbing her naked breasts. Quickly, she didn't want Jon to see her discomfort. _I can do this._ Jon is kind and gentle and brave. She pretended she was catching her breath. 

"You're so beautiful," she said looking his body up and down. _Even the scars are beautiful. Sad and strong like a song._

"So are you." He said as he reached for the robe. Gently, Sansa held his hand and guided him to the large bed covered in furs. 

"Sit," Sansa told him staring into his eyes.

He smiled shyly. "Ok"

Picking up her towel, she helped dry his wet body before taking off her robe. She kneeled before him. "You don't have too," he said.

"I want to," she responded. With that Sansa started licking his hard cock, holding his balls. It wasn't long before the whole thing was in her mouth and he fell back on the bed moaning.

When his seed spilled out, she licked some of it, letting the rest fall on her breasts. He looked even more exhausted than after a battle laying on the bed with his eyes closed. They both crawled under the thick furs and blankets. Laying in his arms, Sansa felt him kiss the top of her head before sleep took him. She didn't remember how much longer she stayed awake. Eventually, her eyes closed too tired to even dream.

Was it a coolness in the room or the movement by the hearth that woke her? She was not sure. When she looked up Jon was naked looking out an open window into the moonlit night. He heard her moving, he turned and smiled and joked "Hello, sleepy head." he said. 

Adding wood to the fire and stoking the embers before coming back to the bed,

She looked nervously, "How long have we slept?"

"Don't worry no one is up. The castle is sound asleep and will be for at least a few more hours," he assured her. Adding wood to the fire and stoking the embers before coming back to the bed and kissing her. "Thank you," he said.

"I wanted to do that for you," Sansa said shyly. 

They began kissing, drinking each other again. She felt his hunger underneath the gentleness. It was hot, burning drawing her in, towards his flame. "Now, I want to do something for you." He said as he pulled her body even closer. Suddenly, she gasped and pulled away.

He stopped and she saw the confusion on his face. "What's wrong..." he started to say before a look of revelation appeared on his face. "I'm not like him," he told her meaning Ramsey.

"I know," Sansa said flushed with embarrassment. She did not want him to know how scared she was to let a man touch her even though she wanted him to so very much. _Be brave, bastard brave like him._  

She felt him scanning her soft face looking for her secrets. A question forming on his mouth. "Have you ever made love?" he asked.

"What are you talking about? I'm not a maiden. You know that..." Sansa said with annoyance in her voice, was Jon making fun of her? What a stupid woman he must think she is. Maybe he wishes she was a maid.

"I mean has anyone ever laid with you, because they loved you and you loved them?" he asked in all sincerity holding her face.

Turning away from him. He wants to be kind to me that's all. He could never understand the pain in my heart she thought. 

"Sansa," He touched her chin. "Can I make love to you? I won't hurt you."

Taking a deep breath "Yes" she spoke so softly...she wanted him, she had wanted him for weeks. She wanted him at Castle Black. She wanted him as they traveled the North, She wanted him before the battle. She wanted him when she placed the crown on his head. Half-brother or cousin, it made no difference. She still wanted him. Putting all thoughts out of her mind she leaned in to kiss him.

"If you want me to stop just say," he said moving to kiss her breasts. "Can I do this?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"And this?" moving down to her soft stomach.

"Yes," she said.

"And this?" he asked again, as his mouth went to a place no man's lips had ever touched.

With a loud sigh, Sansa said "Yes.". His lips and his tongue found there way around her lady parts, soft and wet.

Suddenly, a fire started to rise up inside of Sansa from between her legs, up into her stomach then down into her legs. They began to shake, soon her whole self was shaking, moans coming out of her mouth. All thoughts were gone, she was in this moment fully. Then the explosion happened and she cried out. Her breath heavy, her mind slowly returned to her,  _Gods, he's as hungry as a wolf and sets me on fire like a dragon._

Jon started to kiss her stomach again and move up to look into her eyes. "Shhh.." smiling..."You'll wake the whole castle."

If she could've have spoken, she would've told him she didn't care, she didn't care who heard. Instead, she kissed him grabbing his hair.

"Can I do this," he asked, slowly moving his body in between her legs. She could feel his cock hard, strong against her thighs. Still, her words didn't come, she could only nod and keep kissing him.

He put his cock inside her, moving slowly back and forth looking into her eyes. They looked at each other then he kissed her neck still moving back and forth, slowing down and speeding up. Sometimes moving his hips in circles, pressing deep inside of her. Her hands on his back, her nails digging into his muscles holding him as tight as she could. She could've stayed like that forever just Jon and Sansa. A moment that seemed as if it lasted forever.

He began moving faster and Sansa started to feel the fire rise from her womanhood to her stomach again. As he let his seed go, her body exploded for a second time and they both cried out. Finished, he collapsed on top of her. She let her fingers trace the muscles and scars on his back. Everything was so quiet where moments before it had been all moans and cries of passion. They fell asleep next to each other tangled together between the furs.

When she woke again, the fire had gone down, the room was cool despite the heat from the hot springs. Still dark though, Sansa could tell morning was coming. This thought brought a sadness to her heart. Jon looked so beautiful asleep she could barely bring herself to nudge him awake. She knew he hardly slept most nights. The rest is good for him and besides, she didn't want him to leave. She wanted to stay like this with him, hiding from the world.

"Jon, wake up," she whispered.

He stirred. Again she said, "Wake up."

Sleepy eyed he looked at her. Then smiled remembering where he was.

"You must wake up. If anyone finds you here...No one can know..not yet," she worried. 

"You're already kicking me out of your bed." he joked.

Smiling "I don't want to. But you must go," she insisted. 

He nodded. Getting up and finding his clothes on the floor. She caught the last glimpses of his naked body before he put on his pants, tunic, boots. When Jon was dressed he turned and leaned towards her. Kissing so deeply all the memories of just a few hours earlier rushed back into Sansa's mind.

"I'm going. But I'll be back," he said smiling.

She smiled and watched him unlock the door, checking the hallway before stepping out of the room. Sansa softly closed the door behind him. While Winterfell and all its responsibilities awaited her, the Princess in the North could only think of the secrets she now held in her heart. 


	4. Davos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Davos is slowly becoming a trusted advisor to Jon Snow and Sansa Stark. While he is able to keep their secrets, his concerns only grow when others try to push the young rulers apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First non- Jon or Sansa chapter in this series! I thought about having a Davos chapter in Prelude to Winter but decided it wasn't needed. I like showing what's happening through someone else's eyes. Davos can say and think things that show how perilous Jon and Sansa's situation is. Even if they were not intimately involved, sh*t would still be real up in the North.
> 
> And please don't be mad at Jon at the end of this chapter. He is just saying what he has to, to get LF off his back.

**Davos**

Davos had never experienced cold like he was feeling now at Winterfell. It seemed worse then the cold at the wall. Despite it or maybe because of it he took to walking in the Godswood most mornings. He found the quiet wood calming maybe he was supposed to worship these old northern gods.

This morning, he noticed two figures sitting under the heart tree as he approached. Happily, he soon recognized them as Princess Sansa and the little Lady Mormont. He was very fond of the little bear and it warmed his heart to see the two ladies taking eachothers confidence. Davos could just hear what they were saying.

"Princess, will we ride south?" the little bear asked.

"That is not for me or even Jon...I mean his grace to decide completely," she said, "The lords and ladies of the North must decide together to ride south. As it is, winter has come and it's no time to be fighting wars."

"Yes, of course, any attack will have to wait." she replied then curiously with a tilt of her head "Do you wish to ever return to King's Landing, your grace?"

A sad hardened look washed over Sansa's face,"I will die happily in my bed if I never return to that place."  
"You didn't like the warmth, the sun, the food, the pretty dresses? Aren't Ladies supposed to like pretty dresses?" the little she-bear questioned the Princess.

"I did like all those things at one time Lady Mormont. I was a silly stupid girl. I'm afraid you would not have liked me very much," Princess Sansa answered.

"And you don't like those things anymore?" the little bear looked at the princess with a skeptical glance.

"Now...well I still like pretty dresses" the Princess japed then thought carefully,before saying, "Would I have spent more time on a horse with a sword like my little sister Arya when I was a girl. We all might be better off." At this Davos reached the two ladies.

"Ah, Princess, you rode well enough on a horse to bring us the Knights of the Vale. Some battles require a more delicate touch," Sansa smiled at him. "Excuse me for interrupting my ladies. I'll wish you good morn and be on my way."

"Lord Davos, I'm happy to see you this morning," the little Bear said with a rare smile. "Though, I'm afraid I must leave Princess Sansa for my morning lessons. The sword nor the book does not wait." With that off the little Lady Mormont ran through the Godswood.

"Ahh Princess, I see you two are getting on," Davos said to Sansa taking a seat on a rock next to her.

Sansa laughed, "Well I'm not sure about getting on. I must admit I do like her company, though I think she only tolerates me. She so reminds me of Arya."

"You can find no word on your sister?" he asked.

"No, we don't even know where to begin to look. Lord Baelish claims he saw her alive and well at Harrenhal acting as a cup girl for Lord Tywin," she started.  "Brienne claims to have seen her near the Vale with the Hound..." at that Sansa closed her eyes.

"Aye, Princess I am sure she is still out there, alive. Now that word is spreading that his grace and yourself have retaken Winterfell for the Starks. She will hear of it and come to you." he tried to reassure her. 

Sansa looked down with a slight smile on her face. They sat awhile longer talking of the northern lords as snow fell lightly around them. Sansa discussing how to handle each Lord in order to keep them pledged to the Stark cause. Above them, he noticed a white snowy owl perched in the tree. A beautiful bird that had been flying around Winterfell, he had seen the same type at their camp before the battle. For the first time, he wondered if it was the same one.

"My Lord, you mentioned that you studied with the young Princess before..before her death," Sansa said. 

"Yes, that I did, Princess," Davos answered her. His heart heavy at the thought of Princess Shireen. "She helped me learn to read. Didn't mind I was just a smuggler from Fleabottom."

"And are you able to keep up your lessons? I know many of our books have been destroyed." Sansa asked him.

"Aye, I try to take time for it when I can. I have a few books, his grace gave me from Castle Black," he answered. "Don't have a teacher, though."

Davos watched the Princess turn to him with eyes widened, "Maybe, I could help, my lord," she said. "I could teach you."

"Princess that is very kind of you," he said. "You don't have to. I'm sure you are busy with other things."

"I insist, my lord," she said. "It is winter. There are only so many castle duties one can accomplish in this cold."

"I would be very honored than to have you as my teacher," he said. "Though, I fear I will make a poor student, your grace."

"Oh, no one is a poor student. They're just in need a good teacher and a little motivation," Sansa said. "I was not very good with sums myself, as a girl. I'm probably still not very good at sums."

"Ahh, now sums...a smuggler must understand sums very well or you wouldn't be a smuggler for very long," he told Sansa. Giving her a curious look he added, "I could help you if you would like." _A ruler will need to be better than not very good at sums or they might not rule for very long, either._

"Oh, that would be wonderful, Lord Davos," she said. "I would be happy to study with you."

"It's a plan then," he said.

"Yes,  we shall start on the morrow," she stated. "In the late morning."

"As you command, my Princess," he responded. "I shall take my leave now. I find I can't stay out in the cold as long as you and his grace."

Davos went to stand, telling the princess he would see her later in the afternoon at the council meeting Jon held almost every afternoon. 

"Lord Davos, you are becoming a true friend to his grace and myself," Sansa said to him. 

"Aye, I hope to prove myself worthy your grace," he said. 

"I'm sure you will," she smiled kindly at him. 

As he walked back he admired the quiet strength of the young princess after all that had befallen her and her family. She truly was going to be a great ruler one day and with Jon's battle experience the two would make a formidable pair. _And a beautiful pair. These wolves, the white wolf and the red as I hear some calling them. Jon lean and strong. Sansa tall and well stunning. I have seen many of the men looking at her but never when his grace is near. It is as if they know she is his. Even the men can see them acting almost as lovers whether they have become such or not._ He wondered if the knowledge of Jon's true parentage had freed the pair to act on their obvious attraction.Davos predicted more than one person would try to tear them apart and if what he knew of lovers was accurate, it may not be a difficult task.  
  
The only times the King smiled was when Sansa was near. They broke their fast together before the rest of the castle. Just the other day, Davos had walked past the lord's solar and heard soft voices laughing sure that it was Jon and Sansa. This morning Davos had come into the Great Hall where they all took their morning meal and saw the Princess and King's heads close in conversation, their hands clasping under the table. Quickly, letting go when they realized they were not alone. To make matters worse, he had heard servants girls twittering about the King taking to the Princess's bed and sneaking out before others woke. 

The Princess could claim a fear of her nightmares for only so long before the people of Winterfell would wonder why she asked her brother and not a lady's maid to share her room at night. No one dared say it but Davos knew it would not be long before their enemies would be comparing them to the Lannisters. He feared the young lovers would become too bold when too many secrets were still hidden. Sighing, he continued on his walk back to the Great Keep lost in his thoughts and worries.

The gray afternoon light was waning when Davos entered the Lord's solar to discuss the current plans with Jon, Sansa, Littlefinger and today Lady Mormont would join them as well. The girl was proving to be something of a natural when it came to battle strategies. The King in the North had brought together an odd council of advisors. It was a council that was certainly not in agreement, either. Jon favored looking North to the coming battle with the Others. Littlefinger looked south to strengthen the Stark and by extension his position. Davos was doubtful Lord Baelish was much concerned about strengthening either of the two Stark heirs as much as he was interested in enriching himself. Sansa appeared to not want to go anywhere but stay fortified at Winterfell and solidify their hold on the North from there. _Hers is the most wise position,_ he thought at least until spring comes.Though, Davos felt that this was more because she was caught between a man she despised and a man she was falling more and more in love with. 

"The Mother of Dragons is fast approaching King's Landing, They say she took Dragonstone with ease," Littlefinger reported. "Cersei will not last long."

"She won't?" Sansa looked skeptical. "That woman has nothing to lose. She will run to Casterly Rock if she must. The Tyrells have lost all their heirs, I doubt they can stop a Lannister army, even one in retreat."

"We will ask for a peace agreement with whoever wins. We don't want the south," Jon said firmly.

"We want an independent North, though," reminded Lady Mormont.

"Yes, it's what we want," agreed Sansa. "For that reason alone, Cersei will not let us have it. We don't know what this Queen of Mereen will want. If she wins. Will she ask us to bend the knee?"

"She is the Targaryen Queen, Princess." Littlefinger corrected Sansa, with just the slightest smirk. Davos thought he made this comment with a little too much purpose.

"Mother of Dragons, mad Queen..whoever wins will be much weakened before they have time to look North. By then, it will be the dead of winter," Davos interceded.

"Exactly," said Jon Snow, "Then we will have much bigger worries."

"Have you heard more from the Citadel?" Sansa asked taking a risk to mention their connection to the Citadel in front of Littlefinger. For weeks, Sansa had been only passingly indulgent of Jon's claim that the Others were coming. Davos noticed that over the past few days she seemed more interested in looking North. Asking Jon about things he had learned about fighting White Walkers and thinking about how best to prepare the castle for a long winter. And if Davos had noticed this change, he was only certain that Littlefinger would notice as well.

"Yes," Jon said. "We will need to find more dragon glass." 

The conversation turned toward where to find dragon glass and to making arrows. Littlefinger looked annoyed by this. Shortly, he excused himself and was followed by the Little Bear who claimed it was time for her afternoon wrestling lesson. Davos was also about to take his leave when Jon asked him to stay.

"There is more we heard from the Citadel, Lord Davos," Jon was cautious as he spoke. Looking to Sansa, she walked to the doorway and peered into the hall before firmly closing the door. "It seems my father..I mean Lord Stark sent someone to file a birth record with the maesters. We found them." Jon looked nervous even speaking these words. "I don't know how much he must've paid to bury these deep in the Citadel but they are clear as day. I am the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar."Jon looked down at the desk, his arm spread across the scrolls. "A septon married them in Dorne despite his..." Jon looked down he could barely speak these last words, "Despite his other marriage."  Davos thought the weight of this revelation must be heavy upon the King.

Not only was he the son of Rhaegar, he was a trueborn son if the second marriage stands. _Ned Stark must have truly believed that Robert would kill Jon to deprive him of this knowledge for his entire life._  

"Do you plan to make a claim for the Iron Throne, your grace?" asked Lord Davos. "If this Mother of Dragons restores the Targaryens, you have every right..."

"No! I don't want it. This Daenerys Stormborn can have her throne," he said without hesitation.  
"We have to protect the North from what is coming."

"Yes, your grace," Davos said. "We may find that we need the south's help to do that." He watched the young rulers look between one and another with resignation. The King knows he may very well need the South's help no matter who is ruling. He also knows his Princess and his Lords will fight anything that does not ensure their independence. He did not envy the King's position.

"Stannis' valued my counsel because I spoke plainly, your graces," he said.

"As do we, my lord," Sansa assured him. "It is not easy to find true advice."

"Yes, thank you, my lord," Jon added stiffly. "The Princess and I have much to think over."

"With your leave, my grace, I will let you continue your work in private," Davos said.

"Of course," the King said.   

 Davos left the pair to their own discussion. Since discovering the tomb in the crypt, young Snow seemed more and more sullen, though he did always seem a bit broody. Littlefinger claimed that all the Starks were like that. Of everything Davos had heard about Ned Stark it was hard to believe that Jon was not his son. Lyanna must've been very much like her brother. _Though, perhaps it was Rhaegar and Ned who were not that different. Lyanna would not be the first woman in the world to fall in love with someone similar to the men in her family, similar to a beloved brother or father._

The day following the tense meeting in the solar, Davos joined Jon, Sansa, and Littlefinger for the midday meal of bread and stew. Littlefinger seemed to be growing increasingly short with both Jon and Sansa. _He does not have them under is little finger. Not, yet at least._

"My friends in King's Landing tell me that Cersei and the Lannister forces are weak. It seems increasingly likely that this dragon queen will retake the throne for the Targaryens," Lord Baelish declared. Davos swore the man had an even more sly look than usual about him.

"And what are we meant to do about that, Lord Baelish?" Jon replied with an edge in his voice.

"Make an alliance," he replied matter of factly. With that Jon and Sansa glanced at each other.

"Are the knights of the Vale making an alliance?" Jon asked.

"Ahh well, I can not make that decision. The young Lord Arryn must have final say. Though, I am sure he will be agreeable. Especially if his cousin makes one as well," Baelish stated, looking at Sansa with emphasis on the word cousin. "There is more.."

"More?" Sansa asked.

"Yes, you see the dragon queen it appears may be open to making a stronger alliance with a very powerful house," Littlefinger added.

"What do you mean?" Jon asked.

"I mean a marriage alliance, your grace," he added. "It's a shame Sweet Robin is really too young and sickly. He would so love to see dragons."

"I am sure this queen will have many suitors from across the seven kingdoms," Sansa said. "I hear she is quite beautiful."

"She has a Dothraki horde, an army of unsullied, Greyjoy ships, knights from the Reach and Dornish fighters that can make any Queen beautiful," Then looking directly at Jon Snow, Littlefinger said, "This war with the Others you speak so often about, you will need just such an army."

After watchingJon shift uncomfortably,  Davos spoke sensing that Littlefinger was attempting to divide the King and his Princess, "Dothraki will freeze before they make it past the Neck and after fighting the Lannisters these Targaryen forces will be much weakened," he began.

Not wanting to show his hand completely, Davos added, "Lord Baelish is not wrong your grace, I don't know much about fighting these others you say but you may find it wise to bring more houses to your cause."

Davos observed the pair. Jon was silent for a few moments and Sansa took a long sip of her mulled wine. Her eyes growing fiercer and fiercer as she looked upon Baelish. 

"When the Lannister army is defeated once and for all we will have the Riverlands again," Sansa said. "Already there is word that Lord Frey has met his end. My uncle Edmure still lives. There are rumblings along the forks of the Trident."

"And who will help defeat the Lannister army?" Lord Baelish asked now looking at Sansa. "Do you think the Mother of Dragons will want to help the North if the North did not help her?"

"Go south and hold the Twins, retake Riverrun" he continued, "More importantly make an alliance, a marriage alliance between your grace the King in the North and Daenerys Targaryen." Davos watched Sansa's glare turn to ice as she looked upon Lord Baelish.

"We don't need a marriage alliance. I am sure there are other ways," Jon said.

"What other ways? Marriage is the only way you remain King in the North," Littlefinger stated. Davos knew he should say something to ease the situation, still he could not in that moment find a way around Littlefinger's logic without revealing what he had been sworn to keep secret. If that secret were revealed the King in the North would certainly need a marriage alliance to keep his crown, just not one with a Targaryen Queen. _He would need one with a northern princess_.

"You make many valid assumptions, Lord Baelish," Sansa said cooly. Davos thought she was also thinking of Jon's need for a northern princess. 

"My Princess, I am advising the King as best I can." Lord Baelish said to her. "It is a good match is it not? Your former Lord husband, Tyrion Lannister is her hand. Why you could write to him yourself and press your half-brother's suit." 

At this Davos could see clearly that Littlefinger was trying to draw out the two lovers and divide them. With the mention of Sansa's former husband, Jon appeared even more distressed than at the thought of a marriage alliance. 

Sansa's voice rose her fists clenched on the table, "Lord Baelish, I will not be writing to any Lannister about this or any other matter," she said. Davos thought the Princess rarely loses her composure. She must be careful, she still needs the Vale forces. They all still need the Vale forces. 

"Dear Sansa, excuse me, I mean your grace, I do not intend to offend," Lord Baelish insincerely apologized. Then turning to Jon "You both need an alliance and you already have half of one if the Princess rekindles her marriage to Lord Tyrion and then you marry Daenerys Targaryen." 

Davos was shocked at the boldness of Lord Baelish's suggestion. He watched, Jon look both lost and angry at the same time.

"That is very bold Lord Baelish," Davos said desperately wanting to support the two young rulers he had become very fond of, "I don't think the Princess wants to be reminded of an illegitimate marriage. Is a marriage or two really necessary to form an alliance."

"It is something that must be considered, my lord. Unless there is a reason not to your grace?" Littlefinger asked with a knowing glance.

"Careful, Lord Baelish," Sansa said.

"My princess, forgive me for speaking so, indelicately. I am sure there is not a word of truth but the servants do go on about a brother and sister appearing very close. Wondering if a certain princess spent too much time in the company of Cersei Lannister," he said looking directly at Sansa. Davos prayed the Princess would maintain the icy composure she was known for. 

It was not to be, Davos saw the fire in Sansa's face burning. "What are you insinuating," she said barely controlling her anger. 

"Really, I don't think we should be entertaining in idle gossip," Davos added.

"Enough!" Jon finally said sticking his knife into a piece meat so hard it's a wonder the plate did not break.

"Your grace, you really should consider it." Lord Baelish attempted to get the last word on the matter.

"I said Enough! From all of you," he said. Davos noted the entire table fell silent for several minutes. Until the king looked up at Lord Baelish. "I'll consider it and hear no more about it."

With that Sansa slammed her hands on the table while rising. Saying not a word but with more anger on her face then Davos had ever seen on a woman or a man for that matter she turned her back on the party and walked out of the hall. Jon watched her walk away like a defeated man. Davos couldn't help but notice the look of satisfaction on Littlefinger's face.


	5. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa in her anger makes a rash decision that takes a very unexpected and dangerous turn.

Sansa felt the cold icy wind in her hair as her gray mare galloped over snow drifts. As a girl, she never really liked riding.  Now, sitting in her saddle was one of the only times she found solace aside from when she was alone in the Godswood. 

After leaving the hall, she had gone straight to the stables and saddled the mare herself before riding through gates without even a guard. All things she could scarcely imagine doing even a few short years ago.   _Riding alone on a cold winter day was nothing compared to having a man killed._

It was colder then Sansa had ever remembered being. She had been born in winter, a short mild one that she had no way of remembering. She was the only Stark born in winter. Jon talked of seeing that same winter when he was very young. With that, her mind went back to the King in the North.

The coldness had hardly begun to numb her anger. _How could he? How could he even consider it?  A marriage alliance with the Dragon Queen._ There was a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. Her fear, no her truth that no one would marry her for love. She was a noble lady, high born, and now a princess. With all the privileges, came the great responsibilities of securing the North, surviving the winter, and protecting their people. Sansa knew in her heart that a marriage alliance was the best way to do that. It meant that he may also be considering sending her back to the Imp. _No, that was impossible. After all, he reclaimed Winterfell for me, for us. He would never risk a Lannister coming near our home even one declared for the Targaryens. Except he is a Targaryen. No, he is a Stark. To me, he is a Stark.  Maybe, he was simply trying to appease Littlefinger? Either way, it matters naught. To the world he is still my half-brother, only Davos knows of the headstone._ She felt despair mix with her anger. 

Looking up at the cloudy gray sky, she knew that there would only be a few hours of light today and she must begin to turn back. Sansa wanted to go anywhere but back to the castle, back to Jon. _What a stupid girl she had been to think that she could stay at Winterfell with Jon and the world would leave them in peace. That they could have a little family with children named Robb and Eddard and Arya._

These thoughts raced through her mind as her horse slowed and she approached the Wolfswood. It would not be safe for her to go far in these woods alone and with so little light left in the afternoon. Before Sansa could turn her horse around she heard the sound of galloping hooves behind her. Only one set riding hard, for a moment she thought to speed up then realized the folly of trying to outrun anyone. As good as she had become on horseback she was not her sister Arya. A few moments later, Jon was pulling a black stallion up along side her.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, worry and anger mixed in his voice.

"Riding," Sansa responded coolly continuing on the path looking straight ahead.

"By yourself? Do you know what could be out here? I'll not have you hurt or worse," he said sternly.

"Really, you're concerned for my safety? So you can send me to the Imp fully intact?" she replied angrily before pressing her heels into the gray mare, galloping ahead of him.

"Sansa, don't," Jon said in distress while pushing his steed to stay next to her, "You know that is what I had to say."

Stopping the mare suddenly, Sansa looked at him, "Is it? Or is it what you wanted to say? You can be free of me and marry the beautiful Mother of Dragons with all her armies and ships," her voice raising not caring if anyone was in the woods to hear her.

"Keep your voice down. Even trees have ears," he said under his breath. Adding "According to you no one is supposed to know. You are the one who wants to keep secrets, to play these political games. You are the one that is good at them."

"How very convenient for you, your grace," she said loudly as she began to ride again. Turning back she added, "So it's all a political game or do you want to marry her?"

Jon looked at her and then looked away before saying, "Sansa".

With that, she spurned her mare into a full gallop taking the path through the Wolfswood. Sansa heard him behind her, she would never be able to out ride him though she did not care. Seeing the path split in two at the last second she turned down the smaller one on the right. He was riding too fast and missed the turn. Jon would have to double back giving Sansa time to get ahead of him. The path was narrow winding through the trees slowing her horse, she could still hear him only further back than before.

The air seemed colder now and Sansa seemed less sure of where she was. It was not the same path she had taken to the wall after escaping the Boltons nor was it the path they had taken to return to Winterfell to reclaim their home. She pulled her hood back up over her head as a wave of frigid cold passed over her.  In the distance, she thought she saw the flash of a figure. 

"Jon" she called out. At first, she thought he had found another path and ridden ahead to cut her off. Except she was sure she could still her his stallion clopping along behind her. His frustration with her left him in no rush to catch up by pushing his stallion and risking a breaking the horse's leg.

Another flash of a figure, closer this time crossed the path. Sansa could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She looked back to see if Jon was near and saw nothing. A sudden sense of fear came over her. _What if something happened to him? It would be my fault._ Deciding to go look for him she turned her horse around on the narrow path.

That was when she felt something try to grab her leg. Screaming she kicked the mare into a gallop. The thing held on, though. Looking down it was a man, well sort of a man. More dead looking then alive, he was missing his left arm, pulling her with his right. She began to fall from her horse. "Jon!" she screamed.

Out of the trees a streak of white came jumping onto the dead man. The direwolf latched onto its neck pulling it to the ground tearing it to pieces. Sansa now standing next to her horse staring at the body parts still moving on the ground. Jon came around the bend in the path.

"Are you alright," he asked taking her in arms. To stunned to speak the Princess of Winterfell just stared at him. She let him pull her onto the back of his horse. Jon pulled the reins of the mare along side of the stallion. The last thing Sansa remembered before they rode off was Jon yelling to Ghost to follow them. The rest was a blur of stinging cold and fear as she buried her face into the back of Jon's cloak. The old gods nor the ghost of her father would not be enough to save them now.

The snowy owl was flying high above the castle searching for prey.  The white landscape gave little away but the owl could see even the slightest movement. She saw the men on horses leave the castle descending on the Wolfswood. Yelling and searching and finding nothing. The dark one, the one with the white wolf led them. She followed them as they rode at a frantic pace down and back on the many paths in the wood until they returned to the castle. 

Sansa awoke in the Lord's Chamber her breath heavy and her skin pale. Maester Wolkan, the Bolton's Maester  who was still at Winterfell was tending her. 

"Your grace, it seems you fainted from the attack," he told her. 

 _No, I did not faint,_ she thought. Saying nothing to the Maester who she neither liked nor trusted. She looked toward the window noticing the snowy owl perched outside gazing back at her. 

"His grace has gone out to ensure that there are no more attackers," he added. "The king was quite worried about you. Even in winter, there are still outlaws, vagabonds, and former Bolton men roaming the land." The Maester shook his head in dismay. 

 _It was a wight, a dead man not an outlaw, not a vagabond, or Bolton man.  And I know he was out there with the men looking for more. They will not find any._ Sansa slowly sat up in the bed. It was too warm underneath the furs. Refusing to look at the Maester, she walked to the closed window to open it. The owl had flown away but the cold air stung her skin bringing her back to this world. 

"Princess, the cold is not good for you," the Maester said rushing towards her. Sansa gave him an icy glare. Leaving the window open, she sat in a chair facing the hearth. Warmth on her face and the cold on her back. The light had begun to go down and the room was dark except for the flames from the fire. 

There was a soft knock at the door and Maester Wolkan went to open it. Sansa heard his faint whispers, the words "Your grace" and "Shock" and "Needs Rest" coming out of the Maester's mouth. 

Jon approached her. She hardly looked up at him as he pulled another chair next to her. 

"We didn't find anymore," he told Sansa.

"I know," she said. She saw he wanted to ask how but stopped. _He knows how. He saw my owl following them._

"There will be more," he warned. "Maybe not today or tomorrow or even in a moon's turn. Before winter is over, they will come." 

She turned to look at him seeing fear in his hard gray eyes. Coming out of her trance, she said "Then there is time to prepare. We will fight them."

"How can we fight the dead?" he asked.

"You said fire kills them," Sansa reminded him. 

"Yes," he said.

"Then, we will have fire," she said firmly. 

The room fell silent with only the crackling of the hearth. Sansa felt Jon's eyes on her. She barely looked at him, her mind thinking only of fire. They sat together in silence.   _I must be strong. I have faced worse than wights._   _We must take care of our people._  The thought of the people of the north reminded Sansa of plans they had been making for a feast. 

"We will have large bonfires at the feast, candles lit everywhere," she said to him. _Be mundane, talk of everyday things._

"The feast?" Jon asked her. 

"The Winter Lights Feast, we discussed it. It is a tradition to hold a winter feast here," she said. "It has already been planned for three days from now." She saw that Jon had forgotten in the midst of his other concerns. _The revelation in the crypts, Littlefinger's schemes, wights, winter, war in the south. It is so much, too much._

"We can cancel it," he said. "You are in no condition to host a feast."

"No, we must be brave. We must show our people there is nothing to worry about," she said grabbing his hand.

"Sansa, there is everything to worry about," Jon said turning away. "With what is out there, we may not survive winter."

"If we are to die, let us celebrate while we still can," she told him. He nodded and again they fell silent sitting by the hearth. Soon, Sansa felt her eyes grow heavy as she drifted off to sleep. Hours later, she found the chair opposite her empty. A fur had been placed gently over her body. It was the hour of the wolf and she knew her wolf was out in the cold hunting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wrote this when I planned on having Sansa be more skeptical of Jon's claims about the others. Still, I like the fact that she actually sees a wight. 
> 
> Though, I have no explanation as to how the wight got so far south of the wall this early in winter and why there is only one.


	6. Brienne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne of Tarth is the sworn sword to Sansa Stark. After the attack in the Wolfwood, the lady knight tries to console the Princess. She also warns the Princess that servants have been gossiping about a certain king and his sister. The conversation leaves Brienne wondering if the servants' gossip is indeed true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just trying to mix it up a bit with a short Brienne chapter. I want to show that Jon and Sansa are really doing a crap job of hiding everything from people. And I feel like down the road I might circle back to some Brienne and Jaime stuff. Though, that is such a tragic ship...

**Brienne**

The princess had been brought back to the castle cold, stunned, though physically no worse for wear. The following morning, Brienne approached her room, "My lady, his grace sent out more searches for attackers, for wights this morning. We have not found anymore," she said. "And might I add I am glad you are well. You gave us all quite a scare."

"Thank you, Brienne. It wasn't my intention to startle anyone. I like to think in peace at times." the Princess spoke softly with a tired look on her face.

"Of course, might I suggest your usual walk in the Godswood next time," Brienne remarked, adding "I am your sworn sword my lady. It is my duty to protect you. I can't do that when you run off by yourself."

The princess smiled her sad haunted smile. "Yes, of course. My apologies Lady Brienne," still her words the perfect lady. _After all, she has suffered and now this, she maintains her courtesies. As much as she is like her Lady mother, she is an entirely different creature._

Brienne watched Sansa get up from her soft chair by the fire walking towards the window. "He is right," she stated then turning to face her lady knight. "It all happened so fast, a wight, a dead man, came upon me, us..if it weren't for Ghost, Jon may have not reached me in time." The Princess in the North looked down kneading her hands. _This Princess has witnessed so much tragedy. She retreats into herself, again and again._

For many months, Brienne had seen joy and happiness slowly emerge on the Sansa's face. It was a welcome change. When she had found her in the woods running away from the Boltons there had been such terror in her eyes. Then once at Castle Black the fear gave way to a haunted sadness. As the days at Winterfell following the battle had gone by, Brienne saw more and more glimpses of true happiness especially when the princess was near her brother. She had her home back, and the man who was quite possibly her only remaining family by her side. _A man,_ w _ho as every Northern Lord seems to remark looks almost exactly like her dead father_. Now, the lady knight saw that the fear had returned.

"Your grace, we will all do what we can to fight the others," Brienne tried to assure her. "You have proven yourself very brave along with his grace."

Sansa sighed "Yes, he is brave....and gentle," she continued. Brienne watched her face change, eyes widen as if she remembered something she had long forgotten. "And strong." Tears slowly began to stream down her cheeks.

Turning to Brienne, Sansa could barely speak. "My father..my father.." she tried to say, "he, he said that to me the evening before they took him away." Now the princess sobbing, held her head in hands. Brienne was never one to know how to console anyone least of all a princess, walked toward her, her voice gentle. 

"Sansa that is all in the past," she said.

"No, you don't understand. He said he would find me someone else. Someone good not like Joffery. He knew, he knew it should be Jon." Her sobs were uncontrollable now. _My goodness she has never let herself go before. Certainly not in front of someone lower than herself like me._

"Your lord father knew..?" Brienne was now extremely confused. She had heard the rumors amongst the servants. That the King had taken to spending more time then was decent in the princess's room, the room that had belonged to the Lord and Lady of Winterfell. It was the room Jon had insisted Sansa take. Brienne tried to explain away the nightly visits as brother and sister wanting to speak without the risk of Littlefinger or one of his spies hearing. Though for many nights Sansa had sent her away to another part of the castle. Brienne saw now that the servants' gossip was more than likely true. "If I may say Princess, Jon is your brother, he has shown his loyalty to you." Adding, "Forgive me for saying it, you must be careful the servants are talking."

With that Sansa's head shot up and her sobs stopped. Suddenly, she was the princess again with a command of her emotions. "Do they think we are sick? Do they say we are like the Lannisters?" she asked not hiding the hatred in her voice when she said the name.

Brienne thought long on how to answer this question. She did not like to engage in idle gossip or spread it. Though, the whispers had become hard to ignore. Podrick had even asked her about how friendly the two seemed. "I am sorry to bring you this news. Not yet, only that you seem very close, closer than most brothers and sisters who spent many years apart." Adding, "They see how he looks at you. Everyone sees how he looks at you."

"It's not what you think it is," Sansa replied. The two women stood in silence staring at each other.

"When I was your mother's sworn sword I took Jaime Lannister back to Kings Landing in order to secure your release. He loves his family, he would do anything for them, for Cersei. They call him the kingslayer, he has done terrible things. Some say even her children were his, Joffery, Myrcella, Tommen. They even look like Lannisters," she said. Brienne watched Sansa's eyes harden as she talked about the Lannisters. Still, the lady knight continued. 

 "Yet, I have seen goodness in him," Brienne stated. "Maybe if the world would've let them be together...maybe they both would be better." _The world is cruel and unfair, though._  

"I doubt that," Sansa said with almost a laugh.

Reaching for her sword Brienne persisted,"He gave me this sword to find you and keep you safe even though his sister wants your head. He made a promise to your mother that he intends on keeping. There is goodness in him. No matter what people say." _And people will say many things when they do not know a person's heart._

"Do you love him?" Sansa asked.

"What?" Brienne looked shocked and nothing could hide her pink flushed cheeks.

"Do you love Jaime?" the Princess boldly asked again.

"We love who we love, your grace," she answered. "It does not make us any worse or better than anyone else."

"I suppose it does not," Sansa looked away before repeating. "Lady Brienne, believe me, we are not Lannisters, it is not what you think."

The room went deathly silent. "Please leave me for a bit," Sansa asked Brienne then as if returning to her role of Princess of the North, "There is still to be a winter feast for the old gods in two days. I must think on it."

Brienne left the great bedroom walking back to her room in the barracks. _Then what is it,_ thought Brienne. _What was this about her father._ _True it had been several years since Jon and Sansa had seen each other when they were both practically children. At Castle Black, Sansa had said that they had not been as close as Jon and Robb or even Jon and her sister Arya. Still, that was not uncommon for siblings. Not that I could remember. My brothers and sisters had died as babes leaving me an only child. Now, you would not know they had not been so close as children._ Brienne remembered how they stood next to each other at council meetings arms just barely grazing or holding hands under the table when they thought no one was looking. Or how the King spent many evenings in the Princess's room, their voices soft whispers. Recently, the whispers had turned to other muffled sounds. Brienne had been relieved the nights Sansa had sent her away. 

Once in her small room in the barracks, Brienne laid in her bed to rest before she must stand her guard at the Princess's door. Her thoughts went back to Jaime. The last time she had seen him at Riverrun, he told her that he still fought for Cersei.  _I have seen how much Jaime loves Cersei. That is an obsessive consuming love._

_This between Sansa and Jon is different,_ she thought. _It is safety, relief, home. It is also powerful. Sansa's political skills matched Jon's battle knowledge. She has her mother's look bringing the riverlands with her. Strengthening the North. Jon, a bastard, brings nothing aside from a gentle nature and skills with a sword. There is a rage in him, though. Just underneath the surface._

_Yes, they made a powerful pair._ While, true they did not share a mother,Brienne could hardly believe that it was something the honorable Ned Stark would have approved of for his beautiful eldest daughter _. Unless, unless, Jon was not who Ned Stark claimed he was. But then who was he?_

Brienne fell asleep with thoughts of lions and wolves. In her dreams, she found herself surrounded by the animals in an open barren field. They wanted to kill one and another and she stood in the middle. At once, a male lion jumped on her back dragging her away. She tried to fight it but it overpowered her. As the lion stood over her, she found herself laying naked staring into the face of Jaime Lannister. She woke with the kingslayers name on her lips and an uncomfortable desire in the pit of her stomach. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winter Lights Feast begins at Winterfell. Jon has discovered that it is also Sansa's nameday. Worried she is still angry at him, he decides to give her a few very special gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning part goes a bit slow but the end is worth it and a bit of a tease. ;-)
> 
> LF is still being slimy. Davos is still worried they aren't being very careful. Tormund makes an appearance. And Brienne is probably going to hear things she doesn't want to hear...(but that's for the next chapter.)

**Jon**

Jon watched from the battlements surrounding the yard as the small folk entered the castle gates. Only the nearest Lords would come to the Winter Feast.  He feared even for those having to travel from their keeps knowing what might be out there in the woods. Every day Jon sent scouting parties out into the Wolfswood to search for signs of wights or worse. They had turned up nothing. Yet, Jon could not escape the sense of dread. A feast will do everyone good. It will distract us from the fear.

 In truth, the small feast was mostly for the small folk, the castle servants, the barracks, and those bannermen that remained at Winterfell. The small folk in Winter's Town which was now filled with wildlings.  After all the fighting the numbers were few though more then the King would like to feed at one time with winter here. But it is the tradition. When winter comes the Lord and Lady of Winterfell held a Winter Lights Feast since the time of Bran the Builder for their people. This time Winterfell would hold it later than usual. Winter came so closely after he and Sansa had taken back their home there had been no time to plan a true feast. Many of the Lords who had come to pledge their fealty to the King in the North had promptly returned to the warmth of their own keeps.

As much as Jon had come around to the idea of a feast, it was Sansa who had insisted the tradition be kept. Not that either of them remembered a Winter Lights Feast or any of the traditions that went with it. Jon had been too young and Sansa in her mother's womb when the last one would have been held. Still, it was tradition and after so many years of suffering, with winter here it was the least they could do as the new rulers in the north, Sansa claimed. 

Jon could not argue, he did not want to argue. It was not only the Winter Lights, it was Sansa's nameday. She had said nothing to anyone, he had chanced upon a set of family records when sorting through the few papers and books that had not been burned or destroyed. There it was as plain as day on a list of family births that her nameday was upon them. He had thought the day was coming and had been surprised to discover it was so soon. _How could he refuse his cousin-lover this small feast when it was her nameday?_   She has suffered at the hands of our enemies for so long. This must be a special night. _And she is still angry with me for even saying I would consider a marriage alliance_. _Not to mention the incident with the wight._  

Jon thought Sansa deserved more than a feast. She deserved everything. _It is hers by right. She made me a Stark. And still she claims me as a Stark even though she knows._ Jon had been as glum as ever since the argument and the attack in the woods. Even Lord Davos and the little Lady Mormont, neither known for high spirits and good times said the feast might lift his dark mood. _I am not so sure about that._

The yard was filled with scores of people standing near the large bonfires dotting the yard. Garlands hung around the battlements, torches lit throughout the yard. From where he did not know but Sansa had even found musicians to play. Maybe she would sing something. She rarely sang now. Since they had been reunited at Castle Black, he had only overheard her sing a few times when she thought no one was listening. Always sad songs, sad bewitching songs. Once a few days after the revelation in the crypts, he chanced upon her in the small solar she used to study and write in, humming a melody he had never heard before. Asking her about it, she vaguely said she was thinking about something. He teased her saying she should think on a song for him. Her smile and a short "maybe" were the only replies. _Tonight, I will ask her to sing. Maybe that song she was practicing._

The doors opened to the Great Hall and Jon watched the last of the people parade inside, each given a small unlit candle as they entered. It was time to join the feast, they would want to serve the main dishes soon and the candle lighting must come first. The candles were to honor the old gods even on the darkest night. Tradition called for the Lord and the Lady of the castle to begin the lighting of the candles until every person in the hall held a lit candle. In the oldest of days, Jon had heard that the people would light the candles after the feast while dancing and singing around the weirwood trees. This continued until one year during the drunken reveries some young lordlings at another keep set their lord father's weirwood tree ablaze and soon half the castle with it. Now the dancing and singing would stay safely away from handheld burning candles and weirwood trees. 

Leaving the battlements, he went to find Sansa, she had made it clear that she wanted him to light the candles. Jon insisted that they enter together. That the people must see them together, see them as the Starks of Winterfell, the children of Lord Eddard Stark. _Even if it is not true._  

Asking a lady maid as to the princess's whereabouts, he walked toward the kennels, what was she doing there before a feast? With everyone inside the hall, the yard was empty as he walked across it. Before he reached the kennel, he could see her approaching him, the Princess in the North. He even had heard some calling her the Red Wolf. The torch light surrounded her like a halo, her hair fell in soft auburn waves glowing with warmth. "Kissed by fire" _a dark fire_ , he thought. She was lucky, my Lucky Princess he had teased her more than once.  A lucky and also very beautiful princess in her gray and black velvet dress embroidered with a silver direwolf surrounded by white and gold snowflakes. The fur trimmed ermine collar of her cloak framing her face, she looked every bit a Northern Princess, a Winter Queen even. Behind her, Ghost followed immaculate, his fur gleaming in the light. 

Sansa smiled her sad haunted smile at him. "I had him given a bath," she said, "As a thank you. I don't think he liked it much. But he let me brush him. Doesn't he look handsome?"

Jon turned to the direwolf rubbing behind his ears, "Ghost, you clean up well," looking at Sansa with love in his heart. "That was kind of you. I'm sure he appreciated it."

"You look very handsome as well," she added, "Like a King, like Father." Jon saw tears begin to well up in eyes but they did not flow. She was again the master of her emotions he thought after the past few days he feared that she was beginning to show her feelings, too much. 

Sansa had always been good at hiding her thoughts underneath her courtesies. Jon found it a challenge when trying to rule the North with her.  Though he thought it a good quality to maintain while Littlefinger was still within their walls.

Jon took her arm as they walked toward the hall with Ghost following. As they reached the door, she stopped, handing him a candle. "Your crown?" she asked.

"Yes, that," he said making a sour face before turning to his squire who had been waiting outside the hall with the crown. 

She laughed at him quietly whispering. "You can take it off once the food has been served."

"I only wear it because you insist," he complained placing the heavy ringlet of bronze and iron swords pointing upwards on his head. 

"A king needs a crown," his cousin-lover told him."Like Robb."

_I never wanted my brother's crown or did I? Mance never needed a crown or titled himself a king._ _It was others that called him king_. _It was the Lords that called me, king._ _I never wanted this. I refused it when Stannis offered. But then Sansa asked. I never wanted Sansa, either_. Except, Jon knew that was a lie. 

 "This crown is not just for me. I mean for us to rule together," he reminded her. 

She smiled saying nothing and signaled to a servant that it was time for them to be announced.

"Sansa of House Stark, the Red Wolf, Daughter of Winter, Wardeness of the North, Lady of Winterfell, Princess in the North" Jon watched Sansa's face as she heard the titles. He had not told her he meant for her to be titled Wardeness of the North as well as Lady of Winterfell. For a moment, he saw the corners of her mouth turn up just slightly. Before either could say anything, his name and titles were called.

"Jon Snow of House Stark, the White Wolf, Warden of the North, Lord of Winterfell, King in the North". Together they stepped forward into the hall.

The Great Hall was completely dark save for the moonlight coming from the windows symbolizing the long night. It was hauntingly still as they entered with torch bearers in front and behind them. They each held a candle lighting their faces, Jon let Ghost walk between them as they entered the hall walking down a center aisle. Jon and his Princess were surrounded in a glowing light. They stopped every few feet turning to the crowd and lighting one person's candle who in turn lit another person's candle. The Red Woman might have even liked this tradition of the First Men. Though she would most likely prefer torches and bonfires to candles.

Jon felt the eyes of the small folk and the bannermen in the hall as the pair moved slowly toward the high table. All eyes on the Princess, in awe of her beauty, as she lit candles. Jon saw her smile at each person addressing many softly by name. _They could love her. She could be their Queen._

Once the candles were lit and the Lord and Lady sat at the high table the winter words were said to the old gods. The candles placed in candle holders around the tables. More torches were brought to light the room along with the first courses of food and pints of ale.

The evening quickly turned into a blur with Jon's wine cup being generously refilled. Dishes of food came past them, he noticed neither he nor Sansa ate much. He watched her talk graciously with bakers, farmers, and bannermen alike asking after their businesses, families, and health. Davos sat to his right and Lady Mormont next to him, followed by the wildling Tormound Giantsbane. To his left sat, Sansa and next to her was Lady Brienne. After the Lady Knight was a place for Littlefinger. He had sat there only for the very beginning of the feast before joining in conversations with a few of his men from the Vale at lower tables. _I don't like the way he looks at her. Always trying to catch Sansa's gaze. Trying to pull her towards him._

The musicians played softly throughout the main part of the meal. Sansa would often turn to him, pointing out this small Lord or some such farmer. She certainly remembered everyone. As the food finished, the music grew louder. Jon knew it was time for his gift. Turning to his squire, he told him to bring the boxes he had placed in the back of the hall before the feast. The young boy returned with one larger box and a smaller one stacked on top. Jon took the small one first. Turning to Sansa who was deep in conversation with a lady of one of their bannermen about the warmest winter garments for children.

"My Lady, might I have the Princess's ear for a moment," he stated and the Lady begged off back to her table.

Smiling to him, "Your grace, I have been having the most interesting conversations." she said with a glint in her eye.

"I am sure warm winter clothing is most fascinating. Though at a feast, I was hoping for more lively conservation," he said.

She laughed, "This from the King who didn't want a feast at all, who only wants to talk about battle plans."

Jon smiled back. "Aye, but now I want to talk of your nameday.  And how you tried to keep another secret from me."

Blushing Sansa looked down. "You knew. I didn't want to trouble anyone. Not when there has been so much suffering and..." she claimed. 

He stopped her there saying, "You scared me in the Wolfswood the other day. I thought I wouldn't be able to give you your gifts."

"Gifts?" she said surprised, "You didn't have to. This feast is more than enough. Winterfell is more than enough."

Jon handed her a small package, "Here". Sansa took the small dark wood box and lifted the top off. Wrapped in a cheese cloth inside was a rich lemon cake.

"Oh Jon, my favorite," she said smiling. He saw it was not her sad smile but one full of delight. He saw a glimpse of the girl he had known as a child. The girl who had not lost her entire family. 

"There is more. I didn't really know what to get a Princess," he said.

"Jon this is enough, you remembering, agreeing to this feast," she started to say. Before she could finish, the King in the North stood up signaling for the music to stop. The hall became quiet.

In a voice full and strong he began, "The Princess Sansa and I, thank you all for coming. It was a long summer and on this night we pray for a short winter. That is not all we celebrate this night." 

Looking down at his cousin-lover who the entire hall thought to be his half-sister, "We celebrate the nameday of the Lady of Winterfell." The entire hall cheered at the revelation, Sansa rose to thank them. 

He continued, "It would not be a nameday without a gift." Turning to his squire he took the larger box. It was a lovely weirwood box engraved with white wolves on the side. The lid was engraved so the red sap of the wood showed a red wolf. The whole box was polished until the wood shone. Sansa stared at in awe. He prayed she would like it. He knew nothing about getting gifts for ladies, let alone a Princess. Let alone, Sansa. He felt his hands shake as he handed her the box.

"It's stunning," she whispered. Placing the heavy box on the table, she sat to open it. As she pulled the lid off the top to find the inside lined with gray velvet and placed in the middle was an iron and bronze tiara. It was made to match his crown with swords pointing up. The tallest point in the front with the sword points decreasing in size as they circled towards the back of the tiara which was a thin bronze band. Each sword hilt had a small green emerald set in it harkening the field of green in the Stark banner.

"Ohhh, " she said softly as she lifted the tiara out of the box. It was both strong and delicate at the same time. _Like her,_ he thought. 

Jon took the tiara from her hands and placed it on her head. To the hall, he said, "We fought for Winterfell, for you, together." Taking her hand and raising her up, "It is not just a tiara I am giving a princess." He stopped to clear his throat. In that moment he wanted to tell the bannermen and the small folk everything. That he was Lyanna Stark's son. That this should all be Sansa's. Until he saw Lord Baelish out of the corner of his eye. Staring at Sansa, calculating. Jon understood that this lie was still protecting them. He will try to use her and she knows it. 

Instead, the King in the North looked out at the audience and said, "I have yet to name an official heir. Tonight, Sansa of House Stark, I name you my heir, the heir to the North." _There it is. No one can question it. This will be yours and your children's after you._

The hall was silent for only a moment before cheering again, before long they were chanting her name, "Sansa, Sansa, Sansa,". The Princess seemed too stunned to speak. As she sat back down, Jon thought he heard her whisper, "Thank you."

The feast continued, the music louder, tables cleared and dancing had begun. He watched Sansa danced a few turns with bannermen before she returned to her place at the table. Later, Jon even convinced her to sing. It was a short sad song of a princess held captive in a castle waiting for her last living family member a dragonwolf to come save her. Her bittersweet voice almost brought tears to his eyes. It was the melody he had heard her humming. 

The only time he had been truly alone with Sansa over the past few days was the night after the attack. Despite their conversation that night, she was in shock hardly able to look at him. Before the attack there had been so much to do and after he feared she was still angry with him. So, most nights for the past week he had fallen asleep at his desk in the solar. 

Tonight he wanted her. She was so beautiful. The song and the cups of ale only made him lustier, bolder.  Pushing any doubts out of his mind, he thought,   _I do not want to be alone tonight. I do not care how many people are in the castle. I will go to her._

The hall had begun to empty. Many had left to go to their rooms, return home, or to find shelter in the yard near the bonfires for the night. Jon moved towards Sansa who was talking amongst some of their bannermen at a lower table. The tiara nestled amongst the waves of her shining auburn hair. 

Gently, touching her arm, he leaned towards her and speaking so no one could hear "Princess, it will be cold tonight. I would hate to see you be alone like the maiden in your song."

"Your grace, it is cold every night of late," she answered coyly.

"Aye, I have neglected my duty to see that you are kept warm. Can a princess forgive me?" he asked solemnly. _Please forgive me, Sansa._

"It is my nameday. I suppose it is better to be warm." Then she added, "I guess, I can forgive you."

His mouth twitched into a slight smile. He stared into her deep blue eyes. "I will meet you in your room, soon," he told her. 

 "I would like that," she said. "Though, we wouldn't want the son of Ned Stark to appear any less than honorable. Leave after me and don't be seen stealing into my room like a common thief." He smiled at that thinking, _I am not the son of Ned Stark and tonight I have no intention of behaving honorably._

Turning to the bannermen she stated, "Gentlemen, I must take my leave. A princess needs her beauty rest. I fear there will be much to clean up and see to on the morrow. I'll leave you in the company of his grace." With that, she bid her farewells and thank yous to the remaining guests before retreating to her room.

Jon stayed only long enough to make it less obvious that he was following the Princess, drinking one more tankard of ale with the bannermen speaking with Davos and Tormund who was well into his cups by the looks of it.

With all the grace of a drunk wildling, Tormund said "That was a very fine gift ya gave the Princess, indeed. Have you stole her yet?"

Jon replied, "She is my half-sister, you fool."

"Aye, so you fuck the half that isn't your sister," the large wildling laughed furiously at that.

"You are talking about a Princess," Jon said with an edge fueled by drink.

"A Princess, yes. Never stole me a real Princess," thought Tormund leaning back on the bench, "Though, I prefer that lady knight of hers. Bet she'd give ya a fight to make a man out of ya."

Jon eyed the wildling who kept right on making drunken japes. "Might have to steal them both tonight if you won't. Now that would be a night," Tormound laughed even more.

At that Jon went red with rage pouncing across the table grabbing the Wildling commander by the collar with such force they both fell to the floor. "You so much as touch either of them, I'll have your head on a spike," he growled. 

Tormund looked shocked at first staring straight at Jon then laughed loud and long before trying to push the King off himself, "Ah crow, now that's how you make a jape. Wouldn't be a feast without a fight." The remaining bannermen and smallfolk at the feast circled around to see what the brawl was about.

Davos spoke up leaning toward Jon who was now on the floor with Tormund still in his grip, "Your grace, I'm sure the ale's gone to his head. Wildlings aren't used to being around Princesses least of all one as honorable and kind as the Lady of Winterfell." he said and Jon felt the older man try to pull him off the wildling. 

Jon loosened his grip of Tormund pretending to laugh whilst Davos helped him to his feet. Speaking more softly to Jon, Davos said, "And I think he's not the only one who's had the ale go to his head this evening."

The King partially embarrassed turned toward the small crowd of remaining feasters that had gathered, "It seems the night has treated me too well. I'll leave you to your drunken japes. My good friend Tormund will no doubt have a few for all. Please save his head for me, though." They mumbled laughter at that. Jon walked out of the hall followed by Davos. "They will be too drunk to remember this in the morning." Davos told him, "Still your grace, it may not be my place to say..."

"Then don't" Jon answered harshly looking ahead as Davos walked behind him. He was heady with the drink now thinking only of the princess.

"Certainly, your grace, it's only... be careful. I've known many a castle wall to talk in my day," Davos said.

Jon turned, determination and drink in his Stark eyes, "Let them," he replied. 

Davos simply nodded while he bowed, "Your grace, I'll take my leave, sleep well."

Jon walked faster down the castle halls, up the stairs toward the Lord and Lady's room, the room he had given to Sansa. _I will steal her tonight. I will take my cousin-lover. Let them talk. Let them think whatever they want. I fought for her. I won this castle for her. I am wearing this crown for her. She knows the truth. We know the truth. That is all that matters._

Reaching her door, Jon saw Brienne posted outside with Podrick asleep on the floor. She has not sent her knight, away. _I do not care. Let them hear._   Not saying a word, Jon walked right past her, opening the door. He could see Sansa rise from her chair in the light of the fire, only a night robe covering her with the tiara still resting on her head. On the table, next to her sat the small box with the lemon cake. Behind him, the door closed with a bang.


	8. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The feast has finished and Sansa has returned to her room to wait for Jon who has insisted on visiting her that night. Fueled by drink and lust, he has more gifts to give and the night takes an unexpected turn.

**Sansa**

Sansa left the feast, her face warm from wine _or was it from Jon. He has not come to my bed for many days.  I had been worried about the servants talking.  I had been angry with him. But tonight, he said he wants to come. I want him to come._ Looking down at the small gray wood box with a lemon cake. _Sweet and more than generous. He didn't just give me cakes. He gave me the North._

Brienne followed behind her as they walked toward her room. Podrick was with them as well carrying the weirwood box that had held the tiara. The piece sat heavy on her head, it was not beautiful that was true. It was solid, strong, and simple, a crown fitting of the North.

As they reached her room, she saw a dark figure approach them. She heard Brienne reach for her sword. As the figure came into the light, she saw it was Lord Baelish.

"Your grace, Princess," he said first. "You've caught me pacing the halls looking for sleep."

"Lord Baelish, it is very late to be pacing the halls." she said.

"Ahh yes, sleep alludes me," he replied. "I keep thinking of a very beautiful, Princess."

Almost blushing Sansa caught herself. _What game was he playing_ _now?_ "She must be quite a Princess, you have known so many."

"Ahh but only one that keeps me up at night," he continued. "The King gave you a very generous gift. To make you his official heir, he plans to have no sons of his own?"

"Lord Baelish, you must know more of his plans then I," Sansa carefully replied. _I have had too much to drink for this. Jon is coming soon. Littlefinger cannot see him._

"Hmm..I wonder he does not confide all his secrets. I mean plans with you?" Lord Baelish questioned her. 

"It is very late we have all had much food and drink. This is not the time to be talking about plans, secret or otherwise," Sansa replied. 

"Yes, my Princess. I'll leave you and continue my search for sleep." he said bowing slightly while walking past her and her lady knight who looked sternly down upon his small frame. "Anyways, nevermind me, I'm sure the honorable Ned Stark's son would keep no secrets from his cou..sister." 

Sansa stared ahead still she could feel the sly smile on Littlefinger's face. _He knows. And he is telling me he knows. I have had too much to drink to handle this properly_.

"Lord Baelish, all Stark children are honorable. Sleep well." Sansa said back to him. 

They continued down the hall towards the room, Brienne whispering to her lady "Just say the word, your grace. I'll bring his head to you."

That almost made Sansa smile. "Not yet my lady knight. Not yet," Sansa said calmly. 

Reaching the door of her room. The princess looked to Brienne. _I must keep Littlefinger from lurking around. Brienne already suspects the truth of Jon and I._ "Lady Brienne, you are my sworn sword. Sworn to keep my confidence." Looking at Podrick, she added, "You as well Pod."

"It seems the halls may be busier than usual. I will need you at the door, tonight. When the king comes we will not want to be disturbed under any circumstances," Sansa saw the confusion of young Pod's face. Looking to him with kindness, "Young Pod, Brienne will explain. No word of this must pass your month."

"Ye ye yes. My..your grace," Podrick answered shyly.

Sansa smiling at both, "Goodnight, my friends." she said entering the room. 

The room was warm the walls heated from the hot springs. Opening a window just a crack, Sansa let the crisp cold air enter the room. Placing the small box on the table by the hearth. Sansa slipped out of her gown and small clothes, wrapping herself in her fur trimmed velvet black and gold robe, her tiara still crowning her head. Pouring a goblet of wine that she did not need. She sat in a chair by the fire staring at the flames barely sipping the drink.

The footsteps came loudly and Sansa rose as Jon entered the room. The door closed behind him and he stared at her for only a moment before coming towards her. Without a word he took her in his arms knocking the wine goblet off the table as he pushed her towards the wall. His kisses were strong, full of lust.

"Jon," she said almost laughing at his forwardness so unlike his shy broodiness, "I think you are drunk."

He stopped only to begin taking off his clothes. "And you're not?" he asked.

Sansa only looked down with a smile."Maybe just a little," she answered helping with his tunic.

She stared at his chest that looked as if it had grown stronger since the last time they had been together. His arms, too, lean and strong. _He's been training more and more._ In nothing but his pants now his cock hard, he opened her robe and began kissing her breasts, neck, his hands moving between her legs. She began to moan softly.

"I want the whole castle to hear," he whispered into her ear.

"Jon, we have...to...be...care...." the Princess tried to say before leaning her head back in ecstasy.."Oh god...yes.."

"Louder," he commanded.

At that Sansa, released a moan that if the whole castle didn't hear certainly anyone lurking in the hall outside her room could. He slowly pushed her towards the bed while taking off his breeches. They both fell onto the furs now fully naked.

Sansa spread her legs so he could enter her then she wrapped them around him. They stayed like that thrusting against one and another, kissing and biting. After what seemed like forever to Sansa, he spent his seed in her with a loud moan.

She let him do so two more times. The second time she climbed on top of him placing his hands on her breasts as she moved back and forth. Even letting him slap her thighs and buttocks while she made him cum. _Yes, my white wolf, let them all hear us._ The third time was her favorite, laying flat on her stomach, he was flush against her back moving slowly kissing her neck and pressing her wrists against the pillows with one hand while the other was under her body pressing his fingers into her maiden flower. Her whole body shook, even her feet were on fire. After he spent his seed in her the third and final time, his body collapsing next to her in exhaustion.

Sleep came over them both as they lay curled amongst the furs.

Sansa slowly woke maybe an hour later to make water. Her throat parched and her head throbbing. Finding water that had been left in the room. She drank slowly. Crawling back into the bed, she felt Jon stir. He opened his eyes to look at her reaching up and running his hand from her cheek to her neck then breasts. She took his hand in hers.

"You were very generous tonight at the feast and after." she smiled then stopped "You're head does not hurt from the drink?"

"Aye, only a little.." he lied with a smile. "I glad you like your gifts."

"I like them very much," she said. "All of them."

"Good," he said still smiling pulling her toward him. Sansa pulled back after a long kiss. 

"I must tell you. Littlefinger approached us in the hallway as we came to the room," Sansa told him. 

Jon's face turned toward her with concern.

"He knows." she said, "He made it clear he wanted me to know he knows. He almost called you my cousin in front of Brienne and Pod before stopping himself. Making me heir puts a target on your back."

"Didn't you say we need to draw him out, find out what he wants?" Jon declared reminding her of their many conversations of how to deal with Lord Baelish.  Sitting up to face her, he added. "We will deal with him, shortly."

"I know, Brienne is ready to chop his head off as it is," Sansa answered. 

Jon laughed at that leaning back into the pillows piled against the headboard.

"Jon, I know what I said about forcing him to make a move. I just didn't know this is what you planned." She said resting her cheek against his chest nestled in the crook of his shoulder. "He questioned why you made me heir to Winterfell. Questioned if you planned to have your own sons."

"I won't father bastards," he said firmly, "I won't do that to a child."

"I know," she said, "But you're not a bastard anymore. Not really. Even if we never find Robb's will legitimizing you. They choose you."

When he did not respond Sansa added, "Won't you want your own children some day? You would be a good father."

Sansa saw him give her a curious look. "Are you saying something, Sansa? You have been taking your moon tea?" he asked. 

"Don't be silly, of course. It's just. You are King now. You could have your own legitimate children," she said.

"And they would be even less a Stark than I am," he said with she thought a tinge of sadness in his voice. 

"Is that why you made me heir? So, I can give my children the Stark name. If I can give my children, my husband the Stark name, your mother could give you the Stark name. No one would begrudge it now," Sansa pointed out. She wanted him to see the logic of her words. 

He sighed, "My mother...I don't even..." he stopped for a moment before continuing. "I made you heir because Winterfell is yours by right. It will be your children's by right. Being a woman doesn't make you any less worthy of that right. Of the name, you choose to take. Of the blood, you choose to honor." Sansa felt his gray eyes staring at her. " And because you deserve it," he added. 

Looking away with tears in her eyes, "It is so generous of you. It's just before, they only wanted me for my land and my titles. It's why I wanted you to be King," she said pausing. "Now it will be even worse. When spring comes...every lord will come calling. No one has ever wanted to marry me for love. No one ever will."

"Then spring better not come," he leaned in kissing her. "You think I want to give you away to anyone?" He said wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"Jon, I know to fight the others, you need an alliance with the Mother of Dragons. I've seen what is out there now. We will need the strength. It's just you can't leave me, here, alone."

Jon was silent. She heard him breathing. Finally, he asked her "Do you love me?"

Startled, Sansa was not expecting that question, "Of course, I do. You are my home, my family," she answered. 

He looked perplexed by her answer. "You love me as you loved me when we were children?" he asked. 

_No gods, no_. She clarified, "When I was in King's Landing, I thought I loved Joffery. He was a monster, I was too young and naive to see it. Father knew, though. I was so angry when he said he was sending us back here to be safe. But the worst was when he said I couldn't marry Joffery anymore. I was trained to be a Queen. I thought I had to love him. I didn't know you could choose to love someone." She felt safe in his warm arms while Jon seemed deep in thought. _Gods, I didn't know I could love like this._

 "Father said when I was old enough he promised he would find me someone kind, and brave, and strong and gentle. He said, Joffery was no Aemon the Dragonknight," she said. 

She felt Jon shift at the mention of Aemon, one of his favorite childhood heroes. Sansa remembered him as child running around telling everyone he was Aemon the Dragonknight. "Sometimes, I wonder, if he wished he hadn't kept everything a secret. If he hadn't, how different it all would be. We could share a name or two. Give each other a name. A dragon and a direwolf could be our sigil. If only I could give you my name."

They both lay in silence, Jon's hand caressing Sansa's arm. "It's a silly thought." she finished. Then she asked looking up at him, "Do you love me?"

"Yes." was all he said. They lay back on the pillows in each other's arms not speaking, listening to each others breath.

Suddenly, he got up and began putting on his clothes.

"What are you doing?" Sansa asked in confusion.

'You're right I will have to make an alliance, two in fact," he said firmly.  "Only, one will be a marriage. I didn't fight a battle to let the others or some lesser lord take you." Then he handed her the gown from the feast. "Put on your dress."

"What? Why? Tell me what you are doing, first. It's the hour of the wolf," she said confused.

"Just do it. Or I'll put it on you myself," he said as he finished pulling on his clothes from the feast. Opening the door just slightly, he commanded a startled Pod to run to his room to get his cloak.

"Jon, you are still drunk?" the princess accused him. "Why are you commanding me to get dressed? What if I don't want, too?"

"Put on everything, please. Your cloak and hold this," he added with more kindness this time handing her the tiara. Sansa shrugged annoyed but did what he asked of her. 

By the time she was dressed, Pod had returned with his cloak which Jon took before loudly shutting the door again. Pacing before her, Sansa watched him think to himself.

"What is going on? Jon, what are you doing?" she asked him again. 

"I will have to leave. I don't know when. I will have to protect us from what is coming," he said.

"I know, do you think I am happy about it? That I have agreed to it yet. Leaving me here alone? We can send ravens to Dragonstone. We can withstand a seige from these others. And if we die...we die." her face was starting to show her anger.

"The others won't take you before I do," he said to the Princess as he stopped pacing to reach around her thighs lifting her over his shoulder so quickly, Sansa didn't know what was happening until she was hanging upside down over his shoulder.

"Jo,n put me down. What are you doing? Put me down. I'll scream, I swear." She said loudly enough for Brienne to hear while thrashing in his arms.

"Shh, I'm not going to hurt you. But plenty say I'm half wildling and we are going to do this the old way. They way they do it North of the Wall. We've done nothing else right but this we will," he told her.  

Sansa felt herself being carried towards the door that suddenly flew open. _He is right he is not hurting me. He is being gentle and strong. Even if all the blood is rushing to my head and I might still be drunk. But why in the world is he doing this? What does he mean by the old way? This will be discussed when the wine wears off._

She could not see but she heard Brienne enter the room with Pod. "Your grace!" she said startled. "I must ask you to put the Princess down, I am her sworn sword."

"Lady Brienne, with the utmost respect I ask you to join us quietly while I steal this lady and no harm will come to anyone." Sansa heard Jon say to the knight. 

"Jon, really this is ridicules. You can't steal me. We live in the same castle. Put me down, now." Sansa said again. He only ignored her as he walked out the door and down the hallway to the stairs with her still over his shoulders.

Brienne tried again, "Your grace, it is my duty to ask you to put the Princess down."

"Everyone be quiet! Or I will gag the lot of ya. We are going to the Godswood to make this right." he said finally, "Now be quiet. Or do you want the entire castle to join us."

"Jon, really I think I can walk," she said as she continued to squirm. Feeling Jon hold on to her tighter to keep from dropping her, _He really is half-wilding._

"Sansa Stark, I swear if you don't stop moving I'll tie you up. " Finally she stopped squirming but she did not stop complaining, telling him to put her down.

Miraculously, no one seemed to see or hear them as they made their way to the Godswood. They must think we've had too much drink and have taken to drunken japes. Finally reaching the heart tree in the middle of the wood. Jon set her down on the ground in a mound of snow. Flushed with her hair a tangled mess she looked up at him furious the tiara still in her hand.

"What is the meaning of this?" she said looking up at him. "You take me out of my bed to bring me out into the cold." She struggled to try and get up. Saying not a word Jon knelt next to her pulling her up to her knees.

"I want the old Gods, our gods, to witness this," he said as he touched the tree then looking in Brienne's direction, "And them, too. So there's no questions."  After brushing the strands of hair from her face, he gently took the tiara from her hands and placed it on her head.

The realization of what he wanted shone in her eyes, _He means to make me his wife. A true wife._

"You mean too....We have no septon?" she asked more a question than a statement.

"We have been raised in the North, I mean for you to be my Northern Queen. We only need the old gods to say the vows," he reminded her. 

Taking a moment to collect herself, Sansa straightened her hair and cloak then she placed her hand on the heart tree as Jon did. They knelt together and said the vows with one hand on the tree and the other hand entwined with each others. Finally, joining both hands to complete the words. With that, they rose together as King and Queen. 

_It is everything I ever wanted._ Joy mixed with dread washed over Sansa as she saw Brienne and Pod stare at them in awe. _What have we done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was where I was going to stop A Light in the North part of the Lady and the Wolf. Buuutttt...now I"m not so sure. I have a bunch of following chapters already written just in need of re-writes. So we shall see!


	9. Howland Reed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Sansa receive an unexpected visitor and his mysterious companion. They are again faced with the past and forced to confront their present situation.

**Howland Reed**

The small worn man using a spear as a walking stick spied the gates of Winterfell through his moss green eyes. _How many years had it been since I've walked through these gates, 9 maybe 10 years._ He had traveled many leagues from the Neck in the cold of early winter to see these gates, again, to lay his friend to rest, to be reunited with his daughter, and to see what had become of the babe. 

With his companion, he watched the ravens fly from the castle towers that morning. So many ravens at one time, carrying some important message no doubt. His companion, a quiet woman in a dark woolen cloak and fur trimmed hood pulled low over her face sat atop a brown mare. Underneath her cloak she wore a finely made simple deep red burgundy gown with long tight sleeves and a high collar, small gold buttons fastening the collar, sleeves, and running down the back. From a distance, she appeared much like any well-born Lady bundled for the cold, he had hoped. It was up close that he feared small folk would see the lacquer mask she wore covering more than half her face and cause them problems. With only her dark almond-shaped eyes peering out underneath her hood she would be a strange sight for any Northerners they did meet. The mask gave away one of many her callings that of a shadowbinder. Who in the North had ever seen a shadowbinder from Asshai? His fears were for naught. Few smallfolk roamed the barren countryside in winter and they had enough supplies with them to avoid the few towns and villages they passed.

It had been a long hard journey for just the two companions. Another brown garron carried a large wooden box along with their provisions and their secrets. _The secrets we carry are dangerous. Even crannogmen will ask too many questions over the course of a long journey._ So, he had left his men in the Neck traveling only with the woman dressed as a shadowbinder. 

No ravens had alerted the new inhabitants of the Winterfell to the crannogman's impeding visit. There were no ravens in the Neck. They never came to Greywater Watch, the floating keep came only to those it wished to find. The shadowbinder woman had found it easily enough when she was disquised as a Silent Sister. Those with her had all perished save for one other Silent Sister who they sent back to Kings Landing. The crannogman had known immediately that she was not a silent sister. His dreams had shown him a shadow from the south move up the Neck in the hour before dawn came. The shadow moved closer to his floating keep only to disappear when the morningstar rose. The Lord knew his old friends had found him, one in life and the other in death. 

 The woman was intent on continuing her journey alone to Winterfell that was until the North fell into the hands of the Iron-born followed by the Boltons. Forced to stay in the Neck until the fighting subsided she discarded her costumes for a time only to use them again as they traveled North. 

The crannogmen were a poor people who rarely left the Neck, the shadowbinder brought news of the world. Since his wife had died and his children left, she also brought much-needed company to the lonely floating keep. The crannogman had left his keep many years before and fought alongside the Starks as they had fought for him at the tourney of Harrenhal. It was during those years that he first met the woman before she learned her dark arts.  As soon as she floated back into his life, he knew the time to travel to Winterfell was coming. _Now the wolves have returned._   _It is time for the truth to be known. Not just by a few but by the entirety of the North._

He turned to his companion, she spoke very little during their journey, the small man did not mind. He mourned for the son, he knew was dead and prayed for the daughter, his only heir, that he hoped was still out there beyond the Wall. _Meera is still alive. I know it in my bones. If she were gone I would've dreamt it. Jojen told me he would die on their journey. I saw him fade away in my dreams. But Meera, she is out there somewhere._

"Are you ready?" he asked. The woman nodded saying not a word. _The journey has grown hard on her. I worried it would be too much._ Though, she is stubborn and insisted on coming. _Mostly, quiet but stubborn._

Approaching the gate, a guard shouted down at them, "Who goes there?"

"Howland Reed of House Reed." he answered.

"State your purpose?" the guard responded.

"We come to pledge fealty to the King in the North and the..." pausing for a moment. Here he must be careful. He had seen the truth of it, seen it in his dreams, carried the truth with them on the back of a mare and the words they had yet to speak. _Did the castle know, yet? The ravens flew. So many ravens mean an important announcement._ His companion had pointed out."And the Lady of Winterfell." he finished. A few moments passed and the gates creaked open and Howland Reed entered Winterfell.

The castle yard was busy with people pulling down garlands while preparing bonfires and torches to be lit in the evening. An older man-at-arms walked toward the pair, "Howland Reed of House Reed of Greywater Watch, it is an honor to meet you," he said. 

"Thank you," Lord Reed said to the man, "It has been a long journey."

The older man arranged for their things to be taken to rooms in the castle. The crannogman saw his companion look nervous as the horses were taken away along with their boxes. "Never fear my lady, your things will be taken directly to your rooms. The Starks rule here again," said the man-at-arms sensing the woman's hesitation. Howland Reed also noticed the man's eyes widen when he finally saw the mask. Even in the Neck the tales of Stannis' Red Priestess and her shadows had reached them along with the news that new King in the North had sent her away _. House Reed may be a poor house but it is an old one and a loyal one._ They will know this is not the same red priestess. _My dreams told me we will be safe here. Safe but not sound._

They were led to a smaller hall, "the Great Hall was the sight of a feast not but two days ago they are still cleaning. I am sorry you missed it. Please wait here," the man said.

Before Howland could respond, he saw the ghost of the past walking toward him. The image of the man took him back to the time of Robert's rebellion. Suddenly, the battles they fought together seemed like yesterday. No, as the man got closer there were differences he could plainly see. This man was leaner, more lithe than Ned Stark and not so tall. His stride more graceful, this must be the boy, Jon Snow, the newly made King of the North. _So this is what the babe has become._ He heard his companion gasp ever so slightly, placing a hand on her heart, "Ohhh" was all she said.

"Lord Reed," he said, "Welcome to Winterfell. It is an honor to have you here."

The crannogman made a slight bow. "Good day, your grace," he responded, "Apologies, that we could not send word to you of our plans. We do not have ravens at Greywater Watch."

"It is no mind," said the King of the North. "You were..are one of Lord Eddard's most trusted bannermen. You are most welcome at Winterfell."

"We thank you, your grace," the crannogman replied.

"My ah...the Lady of Winterfell..sends her regards. She is attending some small folk and their children in need of winter clothing," he declared. "She will be happy to hear of your arrival and will want to meet you."

"We will be glad to meet the Princess," Howland Reed responded. _He is careful with his words. Too careful. He does not say my father or my sister or my queen._

"You and your companion must be hungry after such a long journey. We will have some food brought and rooms prepared," the King said before turning toward the hooded woman. Suddenly taking in her mask. _Most will think she has some deformity, she had assured him. The King in the North will be_ more wary _._ He asked "I'm sorry my lady. I did not get your name?"

Slightly lifting her head though not removing the hood that wrapped around her face and mask revealing only her dark almond eyes, she softly spoke the name, "In the East, they have called me Quaithe, your grace."

The King gave her a curious look, the crannogman could not tell if it were one of surprise, confusion, or distaste. _How much does he know? I have seen in my dreams that it was revealed to him._

"You have come very far." he spoke, "A friend of House Reed is a friend of Winterfell. It is an honor to have you here. Shall we call you Quaithe here in the west?"

"For now, your grace," she answered in her soft voice.

The King in the North only nodded.,"You have just missed our Winter Lights Feast to honor the old gods," he said. Lord Reed thought he made a point to mention the Gods of House Stark. _Just as well to be wary of the Lord of Light._  "You will join us this evening for a small banquet with the remaining lords and ladies? "

"Of course, it will be an honor, your grace," the crannogman replied. Before the King could walk away Lord Reed added, "We have brought Lord Eddard, home. In one of our boxes, the largest, you will find his bones."

The King in the North looked stunned, "You have brought Lord Eddard's bones?"

"Yes, they had been returned to Lady Catelyn, when she met with Renley Baratheon. They were sent on to the Young Wolf's camp then on to the Neck. We protected them until they could be brought North," he told the King. 

"Lord Reed, I thank you," the King in the North said. "You do us a great honor."

"Aye, we did what small thing we could for House Stark," he said.

"I must tell Sansa." The King began to walk away from them before turning to add, "Please rest and we will speak in private, shortly."

"Of course, your grace. We have brought important tidings with us. I fear we have much to discuss," Lord Reed stated. 

"That we do, Lord Reed, that we do," the King in North said to the crannogman. 

Lord Reed and his Shadowbinder were shown to simple but comfortable rooms. Several serving girls busied themselves readying the two adjoined rooms for their guests. It was not long before hot meals were brought, a simple hearty stew with bread and ale to wash it down.  While baths were offered and prepared. And in no time, Lord Reed and his companion were warm, clean and fed. 

A young squire stopped just short of the open door, Lord Reed kindly invited him into the room. He was so awed by the woman's mask that he almost forgot the message he was sent to deliver.

"Hello, Lord Reed, Podrick Payne of..uh..House Payne. Squire to Lady Brienne of Tarth." he announced once he got a hold of his tongue.   _A lady with a squire_ , the crannogman almost laughed to himself, the ghost of Lyanna must be ruling this castle. 

"Goodday, young Podrick," Lord Reed gave him a smile.

"His Grace, wishes that you both join him in his solar," Podrick stated. "The Qu..I mean Prin..ah...Her Grace will also be there." 

"Why yes, young man, we shall join him right away," said Howland Reed. 

Lord Reed sensed his companions smile underneath her mask. "Poor boy seems confused," he said to her. She only nodded still smiling under her mask. 

"Well, with all the name changing, secrets, and gossip it's not surprising," he added. 

"Shall we go meet this secret Queen?" the lady asked.

"We shall, yes we shall," he answered. 

The day was quickly getting dark, very little sunlight was coming through the castle windows. The pair entered the King's dim solar to find two figures speaking closely in front of the hearth the light shining around them. The Queen was as tall as the King, her long red auburn waves hung loosely down her back. Her fur-trimmed dress black with gold and silver embroidery depicting direwolves running. On her head, she wore a bronze and iron tiara of miniature swords with three embedded emeralds. The King dressed in a dark brown jerkin, black breeches listened intently to her words. Her hand gently on his arm while his hands graced her waist. 

The pair turned to face Lord Reed when they realized they were being watched.  He could feel his companion hold her breath as she took in the full force of Sansa's haunted beauty. She seems both wistful and radiant. Or was it the image of Ned in Jon that so discomfited the lady. _There was no denying the pair were the ghosts of their predecessors only more striking, sadder, enchanted by death. Ned and Catelyn were only a Lord and Lady. These two, they are a King and Queen._

Howland Reed quickly knelt as Jon and Sansa walked toward him.

"Your Grace, you have summoned us," he said. 

"Yes, again we would welcome you to our home," Jon Snow said. Turning toward Sansa taking his time before adding, "May I introduce you to Princess Sansa of House Stark, true-born daughter of Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn Stark, Lady of Winterfell, heir to the North." Lord Reed thought, _My boy, we know she is your Queen._  
   
"Thank you, Jon," Sansa said stopping him before he could add any more titles with a smile. Walking closer to Lord Reed and his companion she added, "We cannot thank you enough for bringing my Lord Father's bones back to us." Lord Reed and the shadowbinder stood up. He looked around the room, there were no servants present. _This conversation is meant to be private. They did not even post guards in the hall. The King in the North suspects I know the truth._

"Thank you, your grace." Without hesitation, Lord Reed said, "We have also come to pledge fealty to the King and Queen in the North."

The color drained from the Queen's face. "How...how.." she started to say before composing herself. "Lord Reed please explain your meaning," she demanded. He carefully looked between the two.   
  
"Your graces, we mean no offense. No one has betrayed your confidence, I assure you." Placing a hand on his companion's arm, he said, "we have both had dreams of a white wolf and a red one wearing crowns, not unlike the one you are wearing now."

"It is a simple tiara, Lord Reed," Sansa said the concern in her voice plain for all to hear. 

"Yes, simple but a crown still," he replied. 

"Our dreams are wrong, your graces?" asked his companion calling herself Quaithe.   
  
"I see no point in lying to you," said Jon, the crannogman thought he sensed frustration in the King's tone. "No, your dreams are not wrong," the King said. 

Sansa looked at her king just slightly out of the side of her eyes. They are not in complete agreement on this matter. The Queen must want secrecy for the time being _. The knowledge we share is dangerous._

"You must rule together, that is wise. No one knows that you have made each other king and queen?" he asked.

"Only two others who are sworn to me," answered Queen Sansa. _Ah, the squire and the Lady Knight._  
  
"As I shall swear to you both," Lord Reed said. "As I have come here to do."  
"It would please us greatly, Lord Reed," said the King in the North.

Dropping to his knees again, Howland Reed repeated the words his children had said to Bran barely 3 years before. 

"To Winterfell I pledge the faith of Greywater. Hearth and harvest and I yield up to you, my lord. Our swords and spears and arrows are yours to command. Grant mercy to our weak, help to our helpless, and justice to all, and we shall never fail you." 

"I swear it by earth and water," he said. "I swear it by bronze and iron." 

"I swear it by ice and fire."* he ended. 

The oath seemed to have the intended effect on the young rulers, as they relaxed slightly. "Thank you, Lord Reed. Your words are old and true. The words of the first men," the King in the North said.  

"Yes, many forget, but we in the Neck remember things long forgotten," Lord Reed said with a knowing look. 

"And your companion, is she of the Neck now as well?" he asked curiously. "Does she stand by the words of House Reed or some other House or no house at all. We have had enough sorcery in the North."  
Queen Sansa glanced at her King with concern adding. "We follow the old gods, here." Lord Reed saw that they feared another red priestess insisting on night fires, burnings, and the Lord of Light.   
  
Putting a hand on Lord Reed's arm before he could speak, the shadowbinder said, "You generosity and openness must be returned." Closing her almond eyes for a moment while slowly inhaling, "I have hidden my identity for many years. First as a shadowbinder in Essos, then when I returned to Westeros as a Silent Sister. In the Neck, I was able to be myself for a time. Only to become a shadowbinder again on this journey. I will not hide from you." With that she slowly pulled down her hood and removed the lacquer mask.

Now, it was the Queen in the North's turn to gasp, "Ohh my" as the shadowbinder's eyes changed from a deep dark brown to a striking shade of bright violet. "What...what kind of magic..." she started to say. 

Even the King in the North, a man who had seen giants, mammoths, and the others, seemed in awe of the stunning woman now before him. The trick never failed to awe Lord Reed either and he knew what this lady looked like underneath her mask. She had thick black hair with silver streaks glimmering in the light of the fire, her olive skin still almost perfectly smooth except for the line of a faint along the side of her face, her nose straight, cheeks round, full lips, and her violet eyes. Not to mention the pleasing curves of her frame. Lord Reed often found himself stunned that this beautiful woman had remained at Greywater Watch and traveled so far with him. Both the King and Queen seemed equally speechless. 

"Forgive me, your graces for hiding my face and identity on my arrival," she said. "We feared some might recognize me for who I was, who I am before we reached Winterfell."

"And who are you?" asked Jon Snow. 

"I am Lady Ashara of House Dayne of Starfall " was the Lady's answer. 

The dark solar went silent for many moments only the fire crackling in the hearth could be heard. Not even a breath was taken as the King and Queen stared at Lady Dayne. It was Sansa who spoke first, "Lady Ashara Dayne, the sister of Arthur Dayne, Sword of the Morning?" she asked.

"Yes," Lady Dayne said. "The last man to wield the sword, Dawn."   
"But..didn't..forgive me, Lady Dayne. Aren't you supposed to be dead?" Sansa nearly blurted out.

"I can't say I didn't try to die," she said first. "It was necessary for me to leave Starfall. I did not know if I would ever return to Westeros," she added. "To all who knew me, I was dead."

Again, silence took over the room, the King and Queen seemed unsure of how to proceed with this new revelation. _To them, Ashara Dayne is merely a dead woman come back to life._

The Lord watched, the Queen look at her King saying, "Well, it is just another day, I suppose."

He noticed the King give the Queen a sideways glance while saying, "The Lady of Winterfell forgets her courtesies. Perhaps our guests would like a glass of wine?" Then addressing Lady Dayne he added, "Your house is a great one with a great sword. We are honored to have you here. Please sit with us," Jon ushered the pair to a table with four high backed chairs and a flagon of wine. No one seemed to know who should pour the wine as they all looked around for a servant who was not there.

"Oh fuck it, " the king said before picking up the wine and pouring each person a glass. "We are all thirsty people." The laughter that followed put them all more at ease. 

They spoke of their travels before the conversation turned more serious. Lord Reed recounted the story of Harrenhal, Robert's Rebellion, and the Tower of Joy. He spoke of how Lord Eddard held his dead sister's hand until they had to pull him away. Of how the wet nurse put the baby Jon in his arms as he wept.

The crannogman watched as tears slowly flowed down Sansa's face mourning her dead father and the aunt she never knew. The late afternoon passed into the evening as Howland Reed recounted all. 

Finally, Sansa asked him, "And do you know of the will, my Lord?" 

"The will?" he asked. "Do you mean Robb's will? Yes, we have brought you the will."

"Oh gods be good," Sansa said. 

Lord Reed thought the King looked pained. "But Sansa, I am not Lord Stark's son," he said to his Queen.

"You are still you. And we are married. And Robb intended you to be his heir." she said earnestly.   
  
"Your graces, might I suggest that you tell the North," he said carefully. He could feel Lady Dayne place her small hand on his arm.

"My Lord, the King and Queen must take caution." she reminded him. "Beware the truth given too soon."

"Aye, that is what my Queen tells me," the King said to Lady Dayne.

With a slight smile, the lady replied, "Your Queen is wise."  
  
"We will discuss this further, my lord," the King said. "I fear we may need your assistance."

"I am your bannerman, your grace," Lord Reed said. "I will serve you to the best of my abilities."

It was soon time for dinner in the Great Hall. Jon offered to accompany them back to their rooms to have a moment to themselves before dinner. 

Lord Reed followed the King in the North and Lady Dayne from the solar down the long hall towards the section of the castle where their rooms resided. Ashara had pulled her fur-trimmed hood low over her face. It would do no good for the castle guards and servants to start remarking on her distinct features until they were formally introduced in the Great Hall. 

Turning a corner, Lord Reed caught a glimpse of a finely dressed small-boned man approaching them. _It couldn't be?_ he thought. 

"Your grace," Lord Baelish said with a slight bow and a curious look at Lord Reed and Lady Dayne. _He will know me. If not my face he will know my sigil._

"Lord Baelish," Jon Snow replied barely hiding the tension in his voice. "May I introduce you to our guests, newly arrived this morning. Lord Howland Reed of Greywater Watch, you may remember him as one of the most loyal Stark bannerman." Jon turned toward him adding "Lord Reed, I give Lord Petry Baelish, Lord Protector of the Vale."

Lord Reed stepped forward to greet the man, "Lord Baelish, it has been many years. I don't believe we were ever properly acquainted with each other." _But even in the Neck, I have learned who you are._

"No, I believe we were not. We must remedy that," Littlefinger said. Lord Reed could sense the falseness in his voice. _He cares not for crannogmen. We do not have enough wants for him._   "And who is your beautiful compa.." Lord Baelish started to say only to be caught for a rare loss for words as he watched Lady Dayne lower her hood.

"Lord Baelish, may I introduce you to Lady Ashara Dayne of Starfall." Jon Snow said. Howland Reed watched her carefully. She will not reveal her feelings. _I've heard Lord Baelish knows everything._ It seems he did not know Lady Ashara Dayne had risen from the dead to come to Winterfell. 

"Lord Baelish," she said softly, "It is good to finally meet you."

"Lady Dayne," Lord Baelish said as he bowed deeply. Here standing before them was the reason for the secrecy, thought Howland Reed. 

That night as the crannogman laid in the bed next to Ashara Dayne, finally able to feel her soft skin after weeks of sleeping wrapped in furs, his dreams showed a titan falling under an avalanche of snow. But when and who may get buried in the cold along with him faded as the morning star rose.

 

 

*This is the Oath taken from A Clash of Kings. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm combining two really well-discussed fan theories here in regards to Ashara Dayne. I really don't have a particular preference for either. I just felt like Sansa and Jon but mostly Sansa will need the help of someone like Ashara. She's pretty alone when it comes to advisors. Jon has Davos and Tormund. Brienne is really more someone who works for Sansa. Granted, it's going to be hard to say where Ashara Dayne's loyalties lie....but that's another chapter.


	10. Davos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Sansa have tasked Lord Davos with reporting on developments in Winter Town. While making his daily visit, he stops at a tavern and hears an epic new song that tells a very familiar story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was inspired to tell a story within a story. And just get a bit creative with things.

**Davos**

Davos looked up and watched the ravens fly from Winterfell in every direction. The bannermen who had not remained at Winterfell would soon hear of the new heir to the North, Sansa Stark. _He made her his sole heir and any future children she may have._ All the castle, more than half the town, and nearby bannermen who had been present at the Winter Lights Feast already knew. They cheered the Red Wolf as they called her, Princess in the North, Lady of Winterfell when the King in the North presented her with the bronze and iron tiara. _She is more than a Princess to him._   _Word will travel fast in the North and with it idle gossip._

The days were mostly dark now. In the few hours of gray light that they had, Lord Davos thought to go to a tavern in Winter Town. He spent several afternoons following his lessons with Sansa each week visiting the town and reporting back on its development to Winterfell. It would be good to hear this idle gossip from the Winter Lights Feast first hand. Learning what he could of the smallfolk's thoughts of the new young rulers. 

While Jon Snow was King in the North in name, it was plain to all in the castle if not to the Northern Lords that Sansa held sway. _And now, even more,_ Davos sighed, His grace _always felt the Princess was the rightful heir to Winterfell and the North. He commanded an army for her and no one else. Had Sansa not asked for her home back, had she agreed to go to Essos or some other far flung place with him, the Boltons would still be ruling the North. She dressed him as a Stark, she told him he was a Stark. Except, he is also a Targaryen and she knows that, too._

Davos was convinced if Sansa had to she would make him a Stark. And if what the servants are saying about the night time noises coming from the Lord's Chamber is true, it may not be long before she would have to make him a Stark. _If she has not done so already._ She is his queen in all but name and for all, any of us know she is in name as well. It would not be the first time a secret wedding has been held to solidify a claim, legitimize a child, or simply for love. 

 As Davos rode into the town, the onion knight put thoughts of the young rulers reckless behavior out of his mind.  Winter Town had tripled in size since the battle. Smallfolk had come from around the countryside as soon as the Starks returned looking for shelter from the winter winds. He took in the bustling town, alive despite the bitter cold. He had come to enjoy his afternoon visits to survey the town for the King and Queen. 

Over the past few weeks, He had heard a curious song being sung in the taverns of Winter Town and even on the mouths of the castle servants. Young Pod, the squire, had even been heard singing it before his lady knight bopped him on the head telling him to shut up. If he was not mistaken Princess Sansa had sung a verse of it at that feast. He thought she had changed a few of the words and picked the most innocent of the verses but it was the same song he was sure of it. 

While the frequency of the song had increased since the feast amongst the castle servants, Davos was sure he had heard the song before. _Soldiers and smallfolk oft sing songs after a battle. Celebrating the winning side. This song was different. It talked very little of the battle. They never sing it when the King or Princess are within earshot._ Best he could tell it was called The Princess and the Dragonwolf.  Others called it The Lucky Princess or The White Dragonwolf depending on the verses they liked best, still, others gave it a long title "The Princess kissed by fire and the White Dragonwolf Return." No matter the title, the story it told was the same. It didn't take long before Lord Davos found a passably decent singer in the Winter Town tavern to sing him the song.

It began with five young wolf pups born in an ancient castle. There were 2 females and 3 males who were happy and loved by all but most of all by their Lord Father a great grey wolf, King of the Northern beasts and men. He was kind to all his pups, generous to his kingdom, so kind, he even took in the white dragon wolf pup of his beloved sister. A she-wolf who was so fierce she mated with a dragon. Much to everyone's sadness, the she-wolf died giving birth to her male pup leaving him alone in the world except for his Lord uncle's family. The great gray wolf loved him as a son so much so all the beasts, bears and giants, merman and krakens,  falcons and crows believed the dragon wolf pup was his natural son. The great gray wolf saw no reason to correct them.

One day the stag king came to visit the gray wolf asking him to join him on a journey to the great capital of beasts to help him rule. The stag king hated dragons this caused the gray wolf to fear for his adopted son. He sent him away to be safe with the crows who promised to watch over the dragon wolf pup. They became his sworn brothers. The dragon wolf pup began to believe he was a crow because like them he could fly.

Meanwhile, the great gray wolf went to the capital of beasts taking his two daughters with him both fierce she-wolf pups albeit very different. The older was a lady full of grace, the younger a warrior full of fight. On the journey with the stag king, there were many beasts including lions and hounds. One day the lion cubs and the she-wolf pups began to fight amongst themselves. The lion cubs played a trick on the she-wolves causing the death of the older she-wolf. The blood from her wounds turned her gray fur a dark red. Her lord father mourned over her body the entire night, howling to a full moon. His howls could be heard far to the North by the she-wolf's brothers still at the castle. The white dragon wolf heard the cries even farther North in his perch with the crows. On the morn, the she-wolf's body was gone and in her place stood a fair maiden with hair kissed by a dark fire falling in waves around her face. The great gray wolf was overjoyed to have his daughter back even as a fair maid.

They journeyed on to the capital but the troubles would not end for the wolves and the fair maiden. The lions killed the stag king, then the great gray wolf. The younger she-wolf ran away into the woods to join a pack of wolves. The remaining she-wolf, now a girl Princess, was kept captive by the lions who forced her to take a deformed lion runt as her husband. While, she said the words she would not lay with him proving their marriage to be a false one.

The dragon wolf pup was growing into a strong white dragon wolf. He fought many battles with the crows against men, beasts, giants, and the dead. Davos noticed his great deeds seem to grow in number each time the song was sung.

The Princess was growing more beautiful every day in captivity. Inside she had the heart of she-wolf, on the outside she was tall with a woman's body. The beasts of the capital found her kind with a generous spirit despite all that had befallen her. The other 3 wolf brothers had rebelled against the lions and were coming to save her. Alas, they never arrived, scattered to the wind, slain by their enemies, save for one who disappeared into a tree. In mourning, she refused to cut her hair and ate little. Refusing even her favorite lemon cakes. However, instead of growing weaker she grew stronger. Finally escaping the capital while the lions fought amongst themselves. After news of her escape reached the people of her Northern homelands, she was called the Lucky Princess who grew wings and flew out of the castle.

Davos thought the epic song particularly clever. The words were beautiful and the melody catchy. Soon all the north would be singing parts of it. Though, it was the second part of the song that was truly interesting.

The Princess had a river fish aunt who had joined the falcons and lived high in the mountains. Looking for safety after her escape she ran or flew depending on who was singing the song to the mountains. Sadly, her aunt was not sound of mind. She cut the Princess's wings and locked her in a tower. She sang to the falcons flying by her window. Her songs were sad stories of her family, her littermates, and the dragonwolf pup who she believed was of her lord father's blood. She learned all the falcons names while helping care for the youngest falcon, a small sickly bird. They grew to love her. They begged the Aunt to let the Princess out but she refused. One day the Aunt fell from the mountain castle and was never seen again. The Princess who's hair had grown even longer was locked in the tower with no key to escape. Tying her auburn red hair to a bedpost she was able to climb out of the tower window to safety. Cutting her hair loose once reaching the bottom.

After her escape, the Lucky Princess came upon a titan disguised as a mockingbird. He was a small lord who wanted to be great. So, he tricked the Princess into returning to her home which by now was overrun by her family's enemies, the monster men. All the Princess wanted was to have her home back. Seeing it filled with monsters caused her great despair. Once again for the third time, she had become a captive. All hope was lost for the Lucky Princess. 

The dragon-wolf heard of the Princess's struggles. She did not seem like a lucky Princess to him despite being re-born with hair kissed by fire. He mourned for her alone amongst their family's enemies. Yet, he could not leave the crows for he was bound to them. Until the day when half the crows sensing he was not truly one of them turned treacherous, pecking him to death. Left for dead, a mysterious red witch came upon him. Knowing he was the last of his kind, the only dragon-wolf, she breathed the kiss of life into him. He returned from the dead killing the treacherous crows. The other crows begged him to return to their murder but he refused. Death had released him from his vow, he would not make another to the crows. Choosing instead to stay in a lair alone nearby their castle perch.    

The Princess kissed by fire waited and waited locked in a room in the castle, another wolf in disguise promised that someone would come to save her. She hoped it was the dragon wolf even though she knew his coming would mean breaking his vows to the crows which meant death. The princess heard stories of his valor, his great deeds, and his strength. He was the last of her family, she missed him so very much. Her hair grew long again making her grow ever stronger. Again, her captors began to fight with other beasts giving her the chance to escape. Tying her long hair to a bedpost, she slowly climbed out the window, cutting her hair at the bottom leaving not more than a foot of auburn waves on her head. She ran and ran north towards the crows perch, towards her dragon wolf brother despite her depleted strength.

The snow was heavy, the wind cold and this time she could hear the hounds of the monster men coming for her. Still, she ran. Lucky for her, an Evenstar fell from the sky turning into a lady knight with sapphires for eyes. The lady knight fought the men with the hounds saving her. The Princess thanked the lady knight. Pledging her protection to the Lucky Princess, the Evenstar would guide her to the dragon wolf's lair. Turning back into a star, she lit the path for the Princess to follow. When she reached the lair the dragon wolf was nowhere to be found, so she waited in the warmth by his fire.

The dragon wolf had heard the tales of the Princess and decided to fly to her rescue. When he reached the castle all he found was her long auburn braid. Taking it in his mouth he flew away, he meant to keep it as a token of her beauty. As he flew the strands of hair fell out of the braid turning to fine red gold threads. The small folk rejoiced at the riches the dragon wolf rained on them. But the dragon wolf was saddened because he could not save the Princess. He feared she was lost forever. 

Davos taught this part particular ingenious and true. The dragon wolf did not save the Princess, if anything she saved him he thought.

The song continued with the dragon wolf returning to his lair to find the Princess kissed by fire. They rejoiced at their reunion. He promised to help her take back their home, avenge their family, and save the smallfolk. They would win their home in a great battle with the help of men, giants, and even the Princess' friends, the falcons.  As all the beasts and men pledged their fealty to the dragon wolf, the Princess stood by his side not behind him or kneeling in front. They honored him as the adopted son of the great gray wolf, lord of the castle, king of their northern lands. That night one beast an old bog lizard came to tell the dragon wolf and Lucky Princess a story. He told of the greatest she-wolf of all, the dragon wolf's mother and her love for the dragon. He never knew of his mother and cried for joy and sorrow at the story. Sorrow for so long he had not know from whence he came and joy at now knowing. There was more joy, for now, he could profess his love for the Lucky Princess who was his cousin not his half-sister. The Lucky Princess kissed by fire rejoiced in the news and loved him back. She leaned down to kiss him on his head between his ears as her lips touched his forehead, he felt a change in him. With that he began to change form, slowly growing taller, shedding his fur turning into a man. Amazed the Princess with the heart of a wolf took him in her arms. All the beasts and men knelt before the man king who had once been a dragon wolf. That evening he took the Lucky Princess as his Queen and they would rule together until the end of their days.

The song was long with many verses alternating between the tales of the Lucky Princess and the dragon wolf. Davos was determined to find the origin of it. Though, no one seemed to know. One person heard it from a singer. A singer from another singer. Some claimed to have written it themselves but when pressed for knowledge of Winterfell's young rulers they only knew that the white wolf and the red took back their castle.

He had no more luck that afternoon then the day before that or the one before that. Davos wondered how far the song would spread. He returned to the castle with no new information. 

Lord Davos entered the gates leading his horse to the stables. Once he dismounted he noticed Littlefinger in very fine dress, in the corner of the stable.

"Lord Davos" Lord Baelish called out to him. "You have been in the town, I see."

'That I have Lord Baelish." he replied. "Seeking word of any more wights in the area."

"His grace, is still sending you on a ghost chase," Littlefinger said barely hiding his disdain.

"Lord Baelish, I prefer to find the dead before the dead find us," Davos answered him. 

"And I wonder how, his grace intends to fund this war with ghosts?" Littlefinger asked. 

"There are many ways to fund a war as I am sure you well know," Davos said. 

"Would it not be better to ride south. The Princess has a claim on Riverrun. Her uncle Edmure is little more than a Lannister captive." he continued pressing his strategy on Davos.  _More money to be made going south. This man is nothing if not ambitious and greedy._

"It is not my decision to make, Lord Baelish," Davos stated.

"No, his grace will listen to you, though," Littlefinger said. Davos glanced at the man as he began to walk out of the stable. "You understand opportunity, Lord Davos. Once a smuggler as they say..."

"And I lost my knuckles for it," Lord Davos said holding up his hand with the missing fingertips. "If the Princess wants to claim Riverrun then let her press his grace for it," were Davos final thoughts on the matter. 

"I here they will serve a large meal this evening." he said as he walked away from Lord Baelish. 

"Yes, Lord Davos, we have guests tonight at Winterfell," Littlefinger said. "While you were in town, it seems the past has returned to greet the new rulers in the North."


	11. Cersei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While, the Starks continue to rebuild Winterfell, rumors of their accomplishments have reached King's Landing. Not everyone is pleased with the news that the wolves have returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this chapter, we return to our regularly scheduled Jon and Sansa chapters. Hope you didn't mind the detour into other characters' heads. :-)   
> Btw who do you hate more LF or Cersei?

**Cersei**

The days had grown cold and gray in King's Landing, the common people gathered in taverns and pothouses keeping warm with ale. The Spotted Owl, down a twisted alley, one of the biggest Alehouses in Flea Bottom, was cleaner than most and one of the only that served wine, observed the hooded woman who sat in a dark corner far from the hearth.  She drank deeply from her cup, _a horrible vintage from the gods know where_. 

Next to the woman sat her companion, a wizened older man robed in a heavy wool. Lowering his voice to speak, "Your grace, are you sure about this?"

"Shh, you fool," she answered. "If you address me say my lady or even better mi'lady when we are in this place. I am a merchant's wife traveling and you are in my employ."

"Of course, my lady," he answered. "We did not need to come here. To take such a risk. If anyone were to recognize you in such a place."

"Yes, in such a place," she responded. "Who would expect to see Cersei Lannister the Queen of Seven Kingdoms in a Flea Bottom alehouse? People are fools. They see what they believe."

"Of course, my lady," he compiled. 

As the hooded woman, Queen Cersei, made a convincing merchant's wife. Using a Tyroshi dye, her hair that had grown to her shoulders was a dirty blonde streaked with gray. Her clothing dark and plain. 

"This is the place, your little birds identified?" she asked. 

"Yes, it is," he answered. "My little birds are very reliable."

"We shall see," the hooded woman answered. "I want to hear for myself."

A serving girl brought a simple fare of meat pies, which Cersei found herself pretending to eat willingly. _Gods the food is horrible._

"Will there be singing this evening?" Cersei's companion asked the girl. 

"Aye, usually there's some singer or other come round," she said looking at the pair curiously. "Ya two traveling from North or South, if you don't mind me asking."  
Sweetly, Cersei answered, "From Old Town"

"Aye, lucky yous, been no fighting there. Untouched, I'd say," the girl said. _For now_ thought Cersei. _How I'd like to burn those old maesters the way I burnt the Sept of Baelor._ "And now with winter here, more people coming to Flea Bottom _._ As if we have anything."

"Yes, the streets seem even more crowded than the last time I was in King's Landing. Though that was many years ago," Cersei said playing the role of merchant's wife. "Normally, my husband does not need my assistance in these matters. I feared the crowds but my they are worse than we expected."  
"Aye mi'lady they come from all round mostly from the Riverlands and the North. Now that that old Frey is gone, his sons, grandsons, even a few granddaughters are fighting something fierce.  All with the same name would ya believe that." the serving girl rambled on about Freys with the same name hanging from trees before walking off to serve another table. 

Cersei looked at Qyburn dressed as a merchant's servant. "We know Walder Frey is dead, girl could tell us something useful."  
As Qyburn was about to respond, the banging on tables could be heard from the far end of the room near the hearth. A group of drunk men called noisily for a song. A singer stood up with a mandoline in hand to move toward the center of the room. Patrons began to requests favorites, _please god not the Rains of Castamere,_ and the singer began his songs. 

At a table nearby a conversation caught Cersei's attention. Two men, who looked to be just off a ship spoke to a third of being recently in White Harbor. The two appeared to be a ship captain and officer while their companion a local merchant. _Friends or business acquaintances perhaps, more often than not they were one in the same._

"Ah the winter seas are rough. Soon ya won't be able to make the trip," the one with a ship captain's demeanor said shaking his head. "A shame now that the wolves have taken back their home.  Rather have them than that bastard of Bolton ruling the North. Things were peaceful when Ned Stark was Lord of the North kept those other upstarts in line. And they say this new Stark, he's the image of him.  And the Lady..." The man gave a whistle, "heard she is a true beauty." 

"All White Harbor can talk about. How this Stark bastard took back Winterfell with his half-sister and little help from the Northern Lords. Said she rode into the castle with the Knights of the Vale, auburn waves streaming in the sun. Even the old fat merman, declared for them after that," the other said. "Though he was siding with Stannis anyways."   _So Sansa is in the North. It must be her. The other Stark whore was brown haired._  
"I'd keep ya voices down in King's Landing." said the third man, a minor merchant by the looks of it, "Word is Queen Cersei's going to do to Winterfell and the wolves what she did to the Sept and the Tyrells. King and Queen of the Dead, is what she'll make 'em." _Yes, yes that is what I am going to do. Smart man, to bad your friends are too stupid to keep their mouths shut._  

"Ha!" laughed the ship captain. "She can try. Can't kill the wolves."  
"Then how'd she kill Ned Stark?" said the ship officer.

"If she killed him, he was re-born in this son of his, Jon Snow, he's called, the white wolf. No one can seem to agree or whether he's a Stark or a Snow. They all agree he came back from the dead and rides into battle with a giant white wolf just like the Young Wolf had his gray one." the ship captain continued, "They already killed him once and he's come back."

The third man looked incredulous. "That's impossible," he said.

"Impossible or not the Northerners are swearing by it," the ship's officer stated. "And the red wolf, everyone thought she was dead after Lord Tyrion escaped. Turns up with an army of Knights." _Ha, Lord Baelish turned up with the knights_. _That traitor after we made him. Lannisters gave him all he has and this is how he repays us._

The third man shook his head. "You're telling me this red wolf bitch is the same Stark girl that they married off to the Imp. The one they say helped him kill Joffery?"

"The very same, Sansa Stark. Slipped right through the Lannister's fingers. Hid in the Vale. Then the Vale tried to marry her off to the Bolton bastard to get her claim and she was having none of that. I heard she tossed her Aunt, the Lady of Vale who arranged the whole thing, off the mountain for it. "

"That's what I heard." the ship captain agreed,  "It gets better though. Her and her bastard half-brother decided to avenge the Young Wolf's death, take back Winterfell and after the battle, she fed the bastard of Bolton to his own dogs. Beautiful and vicious that one." leaning back in his chair the ship captain whistled again, "My type of woman.." he said with a laugh. 

The third man again shook his head. "If half that is true, how can these Starks be any better than Boltons or Lannisters, didn't they let wildlings into the realm?"

"That they did." the ship captain said, "Got no problem with wildlings myself as long as they follow the rules, it's more people to trade with. There is talk that once spring comes, they will open up more land for southrons, too. Half the North will die during winter. There will be land and they will be giving it away as long as you farm it and pay Winterfell it's due, wildling, southron makes no matter."  
  
With that Cersei had heard enough and went to stand up barely able to conceal her anger. Her companion calmly remained seated. "My lady, there may be more to learn."

"Have I not heard enough?" she said through gritted teeth, "More confirmation that Sansa is indeed in the North, they are letting wildlings settle on our lands, my lands! Soon they will take southrons and make them Northerners." Cersei could barely control her voice. 

"Yes, all that we knew or suspected." Qyburn, her hand, answered. 

Qyburn's attention slowly turned to the singer, the conversation at the table had stopped to listen to the song as well. "I believe this is a new song, might we listen before we leave, my lady."

Cersei glared at him, "It will not please me,"

"No, I fear it will not. I beg listen for but a moment," he said

As Cersei lowered herself to the table, returning to her wine glass, the men at the next table spoke up again.

"Ahh the singer we brought from White Harbor. Been singing this song the whole way," the ship's officer claimed as he hummed along. "The Red Princess and the White Dragonwolf or some such title as that."

The ship captain laughed again slapping his knee, amused by the whole thing "These wolves not enough to be King in the North. Now they want to claim dragon blood."  
The third man seemed shocked, "You can't be serious. Cersei will kill us all just for thinking these things and you bring a singer from White Harbor to sing about them. Everyone knows the Targaryen girl is at Dragonstone now. Oh the throne tries to hide it until they figure out how to kill her. But she's there waiting," shaking his head vigorously. "No, no, now this..they'll call it treason if this singer isn't careful."

Dismissing the merchantman's concerns,"And what harm does a song do? Just saying, he has dragon's blood so he can bed his sister." The captain laughed even more. "If she's as beautiful as they say...let 'em pretend to be Targaryens in the North."

The ship's officer nodded in agreement, "Aye, let the North be, I say. Winter will kill a third, maybe half of them. In spring, they'll bend the knee to whoever in King's Landing just like always. Except now they'll give land to us poor southrons who want it."

The merchant asked,  "You're going give up the sea and get ya'self a little farm in the Gift?"  
With that the ship captain bellowed with laughter, his officer looked away engrossed in the song. The third man leaning back his chair, still shocked at the audacity of these Northerner shippers. 

Cersei listened intently to the story of the Princess and the dragonwolf. She listened about how they escaped their captors, vanquished their enemies, and crowned themselves king and queen.  At the end, she had heard more than enough. Walking out of the alehouse to the dark alleys of Flea Bottom, Cersei looked up at the snow that had begun to softly fall. _Yes, winter is here but the North can still burn. Jon Snow and Sansa Stark, you will rule over the dead when I am done._  Turning to Qyburn, she said, "I believe Flea Bottom will need a fire to keep warm tonight."

A few hours later, standing at a desk in her chamber in the Red Keep, Cersei read a parchment with satisfaction. _We will see if this brother of yours really loves you, little dove. Fighting the Bolton's is one thing but the wrath of the Iron Throne another thing entirely._ Laughing to herself at the thought that the perfect Sansa Stark always off praying in the Godswood might even be bedding her bastard half-brother. _Not even a true-born brother but a bastard._ Signing her name and fixing her royal seal to the message before handing it to her guard to take to Qyburn.

Moving toward a large window in her chambers Cersei could see a faint fire burning at an Ale House in Flea Bottom while snow softly fell on King's Landing.  
  


 


	12. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finally has the opportunity to speak with Winterfell's most mysterious guest. He learns what could have been and negotiates for a future that may come to pass.

**Jon**

_Sansa,_ he thought to himself, my queen, _maybe we will even have children unless.._. Turning his attention from the letter to the fire Jon thought he must go to her soon. The hour of the eel was approaching. Their nights by the fire, her with her needle work, him with a piece of wood working a shape into it were the few joyful hours of his day. Jon had taken to carving small animals to match her needlework. A small hobby that he wasn't very good at but gave him a chance to think of something other than war and politics. Other nights they would each read books, or mostly he would pretend to read until asking her to read aloud. He preferred having her sweet voice seduce him with every page. Most of all Jon wanted her to sing her sad beautiful songs. _She never did_. _Only at the Winter Feast had she sung. She sung her own song_ _that night. The song she had written about us. The song we are making sure is on the lips of every Northman._ Ghost joined them as well in the evenings, the huge direwolf curled up like a puppy at Sansa's feet, more in love with the Queen in the North then Jon.

It seemed a lifetime ago, when Sansa had first appeared at Castle Black, really it was only a few months. In those early days, Jon remembered how relieved they had been to be with each other to have some part of their family back. He was always looking at her, not believing she was real. When they were traveling through the North, recruiting houses to their cause, she bid him to climb under her furs most nights, claiming her nightmares were too much to bare alone when they were out in the open with Bolton scouts hunting her. True, Ghost slept between them huddled close with his head near her chest. Jon laughed remembering how he thought the beast had the better end of the deal. _If we could go back to those nights. The cold didn't matter. The Bolton scouts didn't matter. Nothing but hope keeping us warm._

There was a soft knock at the door and Jon turned his head, "Who's there?" He had sent his guards away to get some rest with the storm raging there was little to fear, except from those already within the castle. _And if anyone within wanted to challenge me well I have my sword and my wolf._

"Your grace, it is I, Lady Dayne, you had summoned me earlier," spoke a soft delicate voice from the darkness of the hallway.

"Please, enter," he replied. The mysterious and beautiful Lady Dayne, about the age of Lord Eddard had he lived, entered the room lightly as if she barely touched the ground. Her dark brown almost black hair with silver streaks pulled back at the nape of her neck. A simple dark burgandy gown lined with black fur hugged the curves of her still nimble frame. Violet eyes shining out of a narrow dark olive face. _Gods, if I did not love Sansa,_ Jon thought, _No matter how old she was this woman is otherworldly._ Then he chastised himself for thinking such unkingly thoughts about a lady, especially when Sansa was his Queen.

While, he sat at his table, Lady Dayne approached rather tentatively, standing before him. "Your grace, my King, apologies for not coming immediately," she said while glancing towards the high-backed chairs placed near the hearth. "I have been unwell, may we sit?" she asked. 

"Yes, of course," Jon responded, getting up to offer her a seat in one of the chairs before sitting  to face her in the other chair. _She has spoken very little since her arrival, allowing Lord Reed to speak for the both of them.  
_ They both sat for a few moments in awkward silence not knowing who should speak first. Then suddenly both speaking at the same time.

Lady Dayne saying, "I want..."

And Jon beginning with, " I am..." At that, they both laughed slightly.

Lady Dayne regaining her composure and reaching for his arm. Placing her delicate hand on his forearm she said, "Please your grace, there is much I would like to say to you."

"And I have much to ask of  you, Lady Dayne." he replied, "As..as Lord Eddard's dearest friend, you are most welcome to speak as you wish." _Please speak freely Lady Dayne, as long as you answer my questions frankly we shall be fast friends._

Jon thought he saw a faint tear well in the corner of her eye before she composed herself. "Thank you, Jon Snow." she answered, "Your kindness to me means more than you will ever know."

"First, I must ask you to wait one moment. I fear this conversation will not be short," he said. Suddenly remembering his nightly obligation to Sansa. 

"Yes, do as you must." Lady Dayne replied with a knowing glance as Jon walked back toward his table filled with parchments and inkwells. He quickly found a blank page and wrote a few quick lines then sealed it with a wax seal. Walking past her to the door, he opened it and looked down the hall, he spotted a guard passing by further down the hall, he called out to him. Handing the guard the message, he claimed "Here, a message came earlier for the Princess. Please take it to her immediately." The guard nodded and was off. Jon then called to Ghost, commanding him to follow the guard to Sansa's room. The direwolf wasted no time heading down the hall towards the stairs leading to the Lord's Chamber. _I swear that beast has a spring in his step every time I send him to her. You'd think he thinks she's Lady._ Jon thought, shaking his head.

He turned back to see Lady Dayne, with a slight conspiratorial smile on her face. "A message for your lady love, I see," she said slyly.

Jon blushed and looked down. "Oh your grace, please don't be shy with me. I was young once, too. Your Queen is a beautiful capable woman. It pains me that you must keep the truth of your love secret, that you must send her secret messages and call her Princess to all instead of Queen." Ashara Dayne continued. "Is this one of the reasons, you wanted to speak with me, tonight."

"Sansa?" he asked, "Yes, I suppose we must speak on that. On the knowledge Lord Reed and yourself have. We will need the support of important houses if the claim of my birth and our marriage is to be made."

"I gathered as much," she answered then pausing while staring into the fire, "I failed Ned once, many moons ago. I can only try to remedy that now. In truth, we both failed each other. That is so often the case with young love."

"You loved my Lord fa...Lord Eddard?" he asked.

"Very much...very very much." she looked down. "But first before politics or the past, your message, can I be so bold to say that was not the Stark seal you a fixed to it."

_It was not the Stark seal_ , Jon thought _And when did this quiet dornish Lady become so bold?_ While still unsure how much he could trust this woman who rode into Winterfell dressed like a priestess from the east. Now, she appeared much more Northern in her dress, even so there was something mystical about her. They had gotten rid of one priestess, he was wary of another no matter her dress. Yet, Ashara Dayne's shy warm smile and soft voice won him over.

"No, it is a different seal," he answered getting up and walking towards his table to grab the seal before handing it to her. _Sansa will kill me for telling anyone about this. But this dornish shadowbinder seems to know everything. So what does it matter?_   Jon watched her hold it in her hands turning it over, touching the edges of the shapes.

"Why..?" she asked, "Why this...seal for your secret messages?"

"Honestly, I don't know. It was something Sansa found in her old room," he replied. "So much had been burned in the castle. Old hiding places emerged in walls. She found this tucked between a place where some wood had been against the stone. The wood was burned away and the seal was left in the stone outcropping."

Jon had never thought much about the seal Sansa had given him for their secret messages. She had presented it to him months before, maybe the first week they had been at Winterfell. She thought it might be useful if they ever needed to converse within the castle or outside it without others knowing. She had been more right than he knew at the time. Giving Jon explicit instructions to only use it on messages to her and when giving the message to someone to deliver to never allow them to see him a fix the seal. The message must appear to have come from a raven or messenger. She also suggested using different squires or guards when delivering the message. At first, he thought her overly cautious. He didn't see the need of ever sending her a secret message when he could just request her presence. Since she became his lover, everything was different. He sent messages only when necessary from one end of the castle to the other. This evening he wrote a few simple lines:

_Lady, I am delayed. Please don't wait up for me. I will join you when I can." - G_

Using the names they had chosen for each other. The servants who would remember Sansa's wolf Lady had long since died or run away from the Boltons. He hoped the G for Ghost would not be so obvious if a message fell into careless hands. Then he a fixed the seal, a weirwood tree with a laughing face before sending the message on its way. In truth, he was not sure the secret seal and messages fooled anyone. _It is our secret, though,_ and that thought made him smile. 

It was that seal that Lady Dayne rolled in her hands. "Sansa found this and thought to give it to you. How odd?" she seemed to be speaking to herself.

"What do you mean." he asked.

"Forgive me, Jon, I'm sorry. may I call you Jon? That is how I first met you." she begged.

Jon looked at her in confusion. "In private, Jon is fine," he responded, then added. "You met me?"

'Oh my dear...there is so much you do not know."

"People like to tell me that." he replied sarcastically.

She let out a long sigh ignoring is his sullen response, "Where to begin.." again she seemed to speak to herself. "As you know, Lord Reed was with Ned at the Tower of Joy. He found Ned holding Lyanna's hand while she died and you next to the bed in a cradle."

"Yes, you've both told me that," Jon said as he looked down. "What more is there to say. We found the stone in the crypts a few months ago, my friend at the Citadel confirmed the birth records. You do not bring us new information."

"Of course," she agreed, "It is not the newness you need but the details. And might I add the confirmation."

Jon stayed silent only nodding slightly. She was right. They would need Lord Reed and Lady Dayne to confirm everything, to add their names to an official letter about his birth and his marriage. It is half the reason he asked to speak with her privately, _To secure the support and confirmation of House Dayne._

"Please may I continue?" she asked. "We did not tell you everything during our meeting the other day."

"Yes, my lady." he said apologetically, "I'm sorry for my harshness."

She smiled again softly, "You are king and still very young...this knowledge would not be easy even for those with years on you," she stated before continuing her story. "Lord Reed met the Starks at the tourney at Harrenhal. Lyanna Stark defended him from bullies, squires who were bigger and then brought him to the Stark tents to meet her brothers. Ned and Lord Reed became fast friends. The next day a mystery Knight entered the lists and challenged the 3 knights who the squires had been pledged too. This mystery knight had mismatched armor and a shield with a laughing weirwood tree on it. Everyone called the mystery knight "The Knight of the Laughing Tree." After defeating the knights whose squires abused Lord Reed, this Knight of the Laughing Tree disappeared. The mad King ordered the knight to be found. Rhaegar went out searching for them. All he found was the shield, with this sigil." Lady Dayne then handed the seal back to Jon Snow. He took it in his hands with new meaning.

"I..we always thought it was a Stark...the knight of the laughing tree was a Stark. They were too small to be Brandon, to good a rider to be young Benjen, and well Ned...Ned was pre-occupied at the time." with that she glanced up at Jon with a glint in her eye.

"You are saying Lyanna..was the Knight of the Laughing Tree?" he asked.

"Yes, it seems so," she answered. "I'm sure that is how she met Rhaegar.  At that time, I wasn't much concerned with all that. Aside from being relieved, that later she would be crowned the queen of love and beauty and not me...Oh I know, everyone was shocked by what Rhaegar did. Though, I knew if Barristan Selmy won he wanted to crown me. Selmy was a good knight, an honorable man, but I did not want his affections. I wanted Ned."

At that, Jon looked at Ashara Dayne's violet eyes leaning forward. Robert's Rebellion caused so many tragedies, death, loss. So many left behind like him and Sansa. 

"After the Tower of Joy, Ned brought my brother's bones and sword back to me." stopping for a moment, she added, "Do you know Lord Reed is the man who delivered the final blow. Yet, here I am with him, my dearest friend, my companion in these dark days. We are all that is left, Rhaegar gone, my brother, Lyanna, Ned, Robert, even Catelyn.  All faded away while Howland and I remain. The world is a strange place, your grace."

"I know.." he agreed, "Sansa is the daughter of a woman who hated me. She looks so much like her only...more beautiful much more beautiful and haunted. Yet, I love her..despite it or maybe because of it. I don't know."

"Yes, we can't choose who we love," she said sadly. Returning to her own thoughts as she was unburdening herself of the past. "I refused Ned, his one request of me. He asked me to raise you, to be a mother to you. He thought I would protect you, the Daynes would protect you for Arthur's sake, for Rhaegar's sake. I said No. I couldn't do it. I failed him. As he had failed me when he took Catelyn Tully to wed in exchange for the Tully forces."

Jon thought of Lord Eddard choosing the lives of thousands over Ashara Dayne, the woman who must have been his first love. It reminded him of the moment he left Ygritte to return to the wall.

"I let him think it was because I was angry over Arthur's death. I was but that was not the reason I said No." she stated while turning to look at him and placing a hand on his cheek, "Arthur had planned to sacrifice himself. No Arthur was not why I said No. I said No because I knew. I knew you would look like him, like a Stark. Even then your gray eyes stared out at me."

"I couldn't live with that. Or at least I thought I couldn't, a reminder of what could've been between Ned and I.  A reminder of what this war had stolen from us, peace and a family." she turned back toward the fire. "Please forgive me, I was young and foolish. Once Ned left, I realized my mistake."

They both sat in silence for a while. _This woman, this kind woman, could've been a mother to him. Not a true mother, not Lyanna, but more a mother than Catelyn had ever been._

She continued on, "Ned asked me to raise you at Starfall as a Dayne or a Sand or whatever we choose. And when you were old enough, he would foster you at Winterfell. He even promised one his daughters, if he had any."

At that Jon peeked up out of his silence, "He wanted me to have one of his daughters?"

Lady Dayne laughed, "Yes my dear boy, is that the approval you needed?"

Jon looked down sheepishly, of everything she had said that was what he responded to first, "I'm sorry...you speak of sad times.."

"Do not fret, those times are long in the past." she said reaching over to him, "It is Sansa's approval you got. That is what was fated. Destiny has a way of finding us all. We can not stop it, though we might try."

She again took his face in her soft delicate hands looking it over, "And I said No, because I saw those gray eyes and I knew. You could've never been raised at Starfall then sent to Winterfell as a ward without raising suspicion. Your face is the image of Ned. Everyone would've said you were his bastard or if not that...they may have seen the truth in your slender build, in your graceful fighting. So like Rhaegar.  And the truth would've gotten you killed."

Jon looked at Lady Dayne solemnly, yes the truth would've have gotten him killed. While a life at Starfall would've given him a mother, it would've taken him far away from Rob and Arya and Bran and Rickon. He would've never gone to the wall and met Sam or Gilly and her baby. Not to mention Ygritte, his first love. Or Sansa his second. _Sansa, Lord Eddard first wanted me to marrying one of his daughters. How it must have pained him to see Joffery betrothed to Sansa knowing all he knew. He did nothing to change it. Unless..unless he planned something different...no the thought was too horrible to imagine._ Jon didn't know whether to be angry at Lord Eddard or thankful that his uncle had saved him. 

Jon saw her look at him again, as if she could read his thoughts, his hurt, his confusion. "And I said No, because I knew Ned loved you," she said. "I could not take that from him."

Ashara Dayne leaned back in the high chair taking slow breaths, her hands slightly unsteady as they rested in her lap. Jon could see the exhaustion in her face in her slow careful breaths. _The journey was too much for her._

"Why did you come here, Lady Dayne?" he asked kindly but with firmness, "The journey must have been arduous and dangerous for you. All these details could've been sent along with Lord Reed. And my lady, frankly most of the seven kingdoms believe you to be dead just as they believe me to be Ned Stark's bastard."  
"Perhaps, you think I came for selfish reasons? To see what became of the babe, I refused to help," she stated. "Or maybe to see what stole my beloved Ned from me."

"If those were the only reasons and winter short. Mayhaps, I would've waited til spring." she smiled at him. "But no politics are not that simple."

Jon leaned back in his chair, there it was. She was here to pull the North into the game. "Tell me, who are you here for?" he asked. 

"I've learned to put little stock in messages sent by raven. Daenerys Targaryen can send all the messages she wants, the North will not stir in winter without just cause," Lady Dayne began. The exhaustion seemed to leave Ashara Dayne as she continued. "She is young like you and thinks the lords and ladies will fall to their knees when they see her dragons. She is wrong, of course."

"I am aware that she wants our support," he said coolly.

"And it would be foolish of you to give it too soon. Unless of course, you received something you needed." Ashara responded. 

Jon was stunned by her gall, _Is this soft-spoken kind woman negotiating with me_? _This woman who could've been my mother. The best negotiators are the ones that catch you off guard._ "And where does Lord Reed stand in all this?" he asked deflecting her question with one of his own.

"He stands with House Stark of course. I speak only for House Dayne and myself. You will need more than Lord Reed's signature on the declaration you and your Queen Sansa plan. My house knows I live, my body was never found. They will confirm the name I sign to any paper."

Thinking slowly, Jon knew he must be careful here. He needed House Dayne more than Ashara knew. "Only your name? For the support of a rebel Queen? To bring Cersei's wrath down on the North?" he asked.

"Based on the letter you received today from Cersei Lannister, her rage is already upon you," Lady Dayne said just as softly as every other word out of her mouth. She stood moving closer to him, "Daenerys will not ask you to give up your crown in the North. At least not yet. She asks only for support in destroying her enemies, your enemies." Looking Jon in the eyes as she spoke. "Your enemies, who want your Queen. Who want Sansa's head on a spike."

Jon in that moment swore to himself he would never allow an eastern priestess, shadowbinder, or whatever through the gates of Winterfell again. Cersei's message had been sealed when it arrived for him. Yet, Ashara Dayne had divined its contents somehow. He made a note to investigate later though he knew it would not matter. This woman for all her kindness and softness was one-step ahead of him. The shock showed on his face.

It was not enough, only her signature on a declaration was just half of what he wanted. Jon knew he must remember that. She had him with each mention of Sansa. He would do anything to protect the beautiful auburn-haired princess he had made his queen whether said queen believed anyone could protect her or not.She knew this. Lady Dayne turned away from him to stand closer to the hearth, her violet eyes staring into the flames.

"The North is far from Kings Landing, even farther in Winter," he claimed desperately trying to conceal the emotion in his voice. "I don't expect to see Lannister troops bearing down our gates demanding anyone's head anytime soon."

"The Lannisters have no need for armies," she responded, "Merely a wedding and a House willing to betray you." Jon sat in the chair clutching his fists together at the thought of the Red Wedding. The betrayal his brother-cousin Robb had faced. 

"What of the others?" the King in the North said attempting to regain his composure after the revelation that Lady Dayne had surmised the contents of the message from King's Landing then proceeded to mention the Red Wedding. "That is the war that is coming. I have seen what they can do. What good will it do the Mother of Dragons to defeat the Lannisters if all that is left is death."

"In winter, all there is to rule over is death. The dawn will come after a great battle," she said again in that soft calm voice. Still staring into the flames, "What is the war for the dawn without Dawn?"

Jon again found himself tongue-tied. _She knew everything we wanted. She knew we wanted Dawn._

"My name and my house's sword for your war, Jon Snow. The best fighter in your army shall wield it in this war for the dawn. For your support of Daenerys Targaryen."

Jon stood next to her sighing, "You are skilled in this game, Lady Dayne."

Ashara Dayne looked down before turning to face him, "Your grace, I have been preparing for these battles from the moment I jumped from the tower at Starfall."

The king in the North looked at her silently. The faint scare traveling down the side of her face seemed to glow in the firelight. This conversation was leaving him with more questions than answers. 

"I must retire with your permission, Lord Reed will be missing the warmth of my company by now. Speak with your Queen on all we have discussed." She said as she turned to leave the room. Her steps slow graceful yet tired.

"Thank you for all you have offered," he said.

Turning back one last time, Ashara Dayne added "You must tell her, Jon Snow. You must tell Sansa the danger she is in."

"Goodnight, Lady Dayne." was all Jon Snow said not watching her leave but staring into the flames.

Many minutes went by before he moved again walking over to the table to pick up the message from King's Landing written in a maester's hand and signed by Queen Cersei. Walking back toward the hearth, he hesitated for only a moment before throwing it into the flames watching it burn.

Leaving the solar, Jon walked slowly to the Lord's Chamber where Brienne was posted outside the door. Slipping past her with a nod, he entered the dark room without a word. Spying the pile of furs on the bed gradually moving up and down, he knew Sansa was in a deep sleep. Taking off all his clothing save his tunic, he climbed into bed next to her spooning her body while wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck. Softly, whispering her name. Deep in her dreams she rolled over murmuring and cuddling her head into his chest. _She is beautiful when she is asleep,_ too he thought kissing her forehead. _In the morning, I will make love to her. The others will never take her. And be damned if Cersei Lannister wants anywhere near her or our home._

 


	13. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Jon know they must make an alliance with the Dragon Queen. It does not mean that Sansa is ready to accept it. 
> 
> After a tense discussion, Jon attempts to make his Queen feel better. Yet, nothing can ease the fears that haunt her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sansa still wants to keep Jon's parentage and their marriage an official secret even though many are starting to suspect there is a relationship between the two. The song is also helping to spread the word amongst the smallfolk. But she is not ready to make an official declaration because she is really fearful of Cersei, Littlefinger and even Daenerys. 
> 
> I feel like I am dragging this out a little bit. But I don't think it is something they would just blurt out. It seems like something they would try to get a read on before they make an official proclamation. Anyways, hope that makes sense. :-) And if not enjoy the little bit of smut I added here and there.

**Sansa**

The Queen in the North retired to her room, the Lord's Chamber, after dining in the Great Hall. The late evenings had become an escape from the duties of ruling the North.  Since the Winter Light's Feast, Jon spent every night in her room. The room that had been their lord father's and her lady mother's. Or was it her lord father and lady mother and his uncle. Sansa herself almost forgot which was which and what was what. _Am I supposed to be Queen or Princess? Is Jon my cousin, my half-brother, my lover, my husband?_   Most evenings, the cause of her confusion, her cousin-lover and now husband would join her in the room shortly after dinner. 

Before the revelation in the crypts, before the first time they had laid together, and before they said their vows in the Godswood, she had tried to give him the room. He was the Lord, the King, he had led their troops into battle, it was only right the room become his. _I had made sure he would be crowned king._ Though, he insisted it was hers, that it was her birthright. 

The argument had never been quite resolved for Sansa. That all changed the night of the feast. She played the events as near as she could remember over and over again in her mind. _It was the drink that made him bold. True, we had discussed a plan to draw Littlefinger out. To make him jealous, to force him to make his move, any move. I thought Jon only meant to flirt with me more. And the song, to spread the song, our song. Not make me his heir. We did not discuss that. Then the Godswood. No one saw us there except Brienne and Pod. They are sworn to me. Now, Jon and I are sworn to each other. I am truly his queen whether the North knows it or not. And soon enough they must know it._

After saying the words in the Godswood, they had walked hand in hand back inside the castle walls and climbed the stairs to the room. Sansa had turned to him saying, "This is our room now." and he had smiled. _Despite his boldness, his smile was still shy and kind and gentle._ The room was just as they had left it not even an hour previously. The fire dying a little, two chairs by the hearth with a table between them. On the wooden table sat the carved gray box with lemon cake inside next to a flagon of wine. After removing her cloak and boots, Sansa sat in one of the chairs picking up the box. Jon tended the fire, adding more wood even though both of them preferred the cold before taking the chair next to her. She had watched as he removed his cloak and boots then his jerkin until he was left in his breeches and tunic.

"The cake." she had said to him, "We even have a wedding cake."

They shared part of the cake taking small bites. She held pieces to his mouth while he grabbed her hand to kiss her fingers. She retrieved the goblet that had been knocked to the floor and poured them both more wine that neither would truly drink. _Just enough to wash down the cake._ The rest of the night they spoke very few words. After taking off her gown, Sansa and Jon laid together one more time. Both exhausted, it was a slow gentle coupling, more for comfort and warmth. Jon had laid on top moving slowly back and forth while his face was nuzzled in the crook of her neck. Surprised at how wet she was. He said it was even more than earlier that night. Sansa barely noticed as she held him, running her fingers through his soft hair. _It was all so simple. If we could only stay like that forever._

The days following the feast took on a rhythm again as they had when the pair first arrived at Winterfell. There were hardly any hours of light and what did shine could hardly be called light. It was a grayness that engulfed the sky. Jon would train in the yard sometimes by himself or with others including Brienne and little Lyanna Mormont. Sansa would watch towards the end of their training before the two broke their fast. The she-bear, Lady Mormont had begun joining them at this time. It was decided that she would stay on at Winterfell through winter as something of a ward. It would be near impossible for her to make it back to Bear Island with the heavy snows. Her castellan could look after Bear Island in her stead. Sansa had suggested it to the little bear and her maester feeling it would be good for her education. 

Truthfully, Sansa had grown fond of the little Lady. _I miss my sister, Lyanna Mormont is so like Arya. Jon likes her too. I see them laughing together practicing her swordplay. And he was finally able to convince her to try her hand at a bow only after I insisted. A bow is a bit more ladylike than that mace she likes to swing around._ Sansa laughed to herself. _We'll make half a lady of her yet. Well, at least a powerful lady that can rule Bear Island or the other keeps we may bestow on her._ It would not serve House Stark at all if she were killed running into battle. Sansa thought of how her Lord father had given Arya her "dancing" lessons even though Sansa knew what those lessons really were. If a Lady wants to fight the least one could do is teach her to do it properly and when she was the Lady of a liege house to do it safely. The girl had lost her parents and most of her family, Sansa understood all too well what that was like. How it left you lost in a dangerous sea. _We can help her_. _We are like a little family now._

Late morning until evening were filled with duties for both the King and Queen. Winterfell still needed so much repair. Ravens sent. Alliances solidified. The smallfolk's needs met. More war councils. And the wights, _Jon is always thinking about the wights, the others._ It had been barely two weeks since finding one on this side of the wall. Scouting parties went out daily and found nothing more. _Thank god._ Ser Davos made the short trek to Winter Town almost every afternoon seeking word of any odd occurrences. He heard nothing beyond complaints of the cold, the snow, concerns about food, and to Sansa's satisfaction renditions of her song. Littlefinger stalked the castle with his insinuations and plots hidden behind a false smile. Pressing them to forget about the wights and look toward threats to the south. 

The pair took their dinner either in private in Jon's solar or in the Great Hall at the high table. They would ask different men or ladies to sit with them each evening just as her Lord Father had done. Mostly, Sansa was happy to see Jon had stopped falling asleep at his table in the solar every night with a half-eaten plate beside him. Instead, he would join her by the hearth in their room while she worked her needle or read. Privately, they would remember the past or plan for the future. 

The servents had begun giving them sidelong glances.  _They see him enter the room._   _No one see's him leave._ Brienne had quelled most of the gossip by claiming that she or Podrick would escort the King to his room well before the hour of the wolf.  

The previous night, Jon had not joined her in the evening only coming to the room well after she had fallen asleep. Ashara Dayne, the Lady of Starfall had responded to his summons to speak with her much later in the evening than expected.

Due to her high birth and allegiance to Lord Reed, she had been invited to their war council. Yet, she had begged off sending Lord Reed with her apologies saying that the Lady was not feeling well. This raised concerns for Jon with which Sansa had to agree. While, Lady Dayne did seem exhausted from her journey, it would not do for her to disregard their invitations to council meetings. Sansa also understood that Jon wanted to begin negotiations with her that would see an alliance between the Dornish house and the Starks. Jon believed they would need Starfall's help against the Others. _And it will not hurt us to have Dornish Lords and Ladies supporting an independent North. Partners to trade with at the very least._

This evening he made up for his absence by joining her earlier than usual. Entering the room with Ghost by his side, he sat in the high-backed chair opposite her. The direwolf immediately went to lay at Sansa's feet while she reached down to scratch his ears.

"Alright," she said pretending to sigh, "I suppose you would like a brush." Putting down her needlework and reaching for the brush she left on the table for just this occasion, Sansa began to brush Ghost's thick white coat. 

"You spoil him." Jon shook his head and watched Ghost role around on the floor like a puppy underneath the brush.

"He does roll around more than Lady ever did," Sansa stated. Talking to Ghost with a smile on her face, "Lady sat nice and quiet like a perfect lady. Not you Ghost. You roll around, push your head underneath the brush."

Sansa saw Jon watch the scene quietly. To her, he seemed more brooding than usual. That morning he had made love to her fiercely, intensely very different from the tone their morning lovemaking had taken over the past few months. His eyes like the gray winter sky only darker more foreboding.  As he pulled Sansa on top of him that morning, she saw every horror he had seen in them. They were so close to her own horrors, she should've been afraid.  Instead she couldn't take her own eyes away. _Even now his eyes are the same as this morning, a cold dark rage simmering just underneath the surface._

"Did Lady Dayne prove agreeable?" she asked. 

"Mostly, she will support us, sign a letter in regards to my parentage and our marriage. And she has promised to break precedent and let our best swordsman wield Dawn in the wars to come," he answered. 

"What we hoped for." Sansa commented, "She agreed so easily...The sword has only ever been carried by someone from House Dayne. She did not want anything?"

The Queen in the North watched her King stare at the window just behind her carefully considering his words taking too long to speak.

"She did," he answered. "She wants us to officially make an alliance with the Dragon Queen. Support Daenerys Targaryen in her wars and hope she supports us later." _There is more Jon Snow that you are not telling me._

"She is negotiating for the Targaryen Queen?" Sansa asked concealing her annoyance at both the topic of the Dragon Queen and the secrets Jon was keeping from her, "It is not right for her to keep that from us."

"Aye, except I don't think she is exactly an emissary or a spy," he said. "What her interests are I can't say. Only that she thinks it's in our best interest to align with Dragonstone."

"And what do we think?" Sansa asked. _There is something you are not telling me, Jon Snow. You have wanted to focus on the threat North of the Wall and let the Cersei and the Dragon Queen fight amongst themselves._

"We haven't decided yet," he answered.

Sansa was silent as she finished brushing Ghost.

There it was, she felt Jon's eyes on her, again.   _That rage is not for me._ Staring at her intently like the days when they were first reunited. It was as if he were not fully convinced she was real. 

"Sansa, you are so beautiful," he said. "And strong and better at this than I am."

She could feel her cheeks blushing. He continued, "I know you don't believe anyone can protect you. You must let me try."

"Peace will protect us. It will protect Winterfell and all the people here. The small folk on our land. The Lords and Ladies sworn to us," she spoke earnestly. "It is the only way."

"I know," he agreed with her. Kneeling next to her on the floor where she sat with Ghost he grabbed her hands. "We have to fight for peace."

Then Jon added, "Sansa, we must announce my parentage and our marriage. Sam says the Citadel will confirm the birth records. Lord Reed and Lady Dayne will sign their names along with Lord Davos once we tell him of the marriage. The North must know."

The Queen in the North looked away from Jon's gray Stark eyes. _From the moment we stood in front of the weirwood tree as King and Queen, I knew we must tell our people. I didn't know it would be so dangerous. It is not the North, I fear. It is the Queens that lie to the south and the titan in our midst._

"It is not safe yet. What about Littlefinger, he is first in line to kill you as it is. Not to mention what Cersei will do. Her husband was the reason you never knew the truth. And we do not know what this Mother of Dragons will think." she countered still looking away.

"It will never be safe," he responded. "Sansa, look at me."

"Jon, I do not want to argue about this," she said turning her head to face him. _Please, I am falling into the darkness with you. Once we announce this we can never turn back. It may be too late already._  

"Then let's not argue," he answered. "I didn't make you my queen for it to be a secret. I made you my Queen to rule together. I made you my Queen so we could build peace in the North. So we could protect our people, so we could protect each other. Everything we talk about building."

_You made me your queen?_   Part of her wanted to scream. _When I begged you to help me take back our home. When I dressed you as Lord Eddard. When I brought the Knights of the Vale. When I claimed you as a Stark._ All and more so much more, she wanted to say to him. That was another fight, for another day, Sansa held her tongue instead saying"So you stole me away in the night for peace and protection?" with eyebrows raised.

"We honored the old gods." he said very seriously followed glumly by "And you really didn't put up much of a fight...hardly call it stealing."

"And the Gods are all who need to see," she responded tersely.

Throwing Ghost's brush on the floor and standing up, Sansa had a pout on her face. After a moment of standing with her back to him and her arms crossed, she slowly turned around ready to continue the argument. Looking down, Jon's worried serious face gazed up at her, next to him sat Ghost with the exact same expression. Sansa couldn't help herself and let out a loud laugh. _They are still puppies, both of them._ The coldness in his eyes had disappeared and been replaced by worry _. My other marriages had been mummers' farces for all the nobles to see. To see me claimed for my claim. Jon did not care about my claim. For all his talk. He cared about the old gods, the north, our people, our family, us._  Letting out a sigh, She sat back down in her chair. "Disappointed, I was too easy to steal? Disappointed, I didn't pull a dagger on you?" 

Sansa watched him look at her. "No" was all he said. 

Softening she added, "You didn't need to steal me. I was willing."

"Aye," he smiled looking up at her. "You went willingly, except for that awful lot of noise ya made. It's a miracle the whole castle doesn't know." With that, the tension between them melted away, in shared laughter. 

"It won't be a secret forever. Be patient Jon. We will tell them soon enough." _He does not hear the fear in my voice. There are those that do not want peace. Littlefinger will not be pleased. He has not been drawn out yet. When Jon made me heir to the North, I became a prize and Jon the target._

 The King in the North still kneeling near her chair leaned in close to her reaching up, placing a hand on her thigh and running it up to her waist. "And what if."

"What if what?" she asked.

"You told me you stopped taking the moon tea."

"Then maybe I'll give you a trueborn child. A Stark."

His eyes looked up at her.

"It's much too soon to tell," Sansa said leaning down toward him. _Not that I would know. I know nothing about this. My lady mother is gone. There is no one to ask. Certainly, no one who could know about Jon and I._ "They say these things can take a long time the first time. And some women never do."

"I see." he looked as awkward as Sansa felt. His hand moved down back to her thigh. 

"If you don't want too...yet..I can take the moon tea," she added.

"Whatever you want, Sansa," he answered.

She placed her hand over his, "Whatever we want." she said with a smile. 

"Right now I want us to go lay down," he replied. 

Grabbing his hand, Sansa rose from the chair pulling him up with her. They walked toward the bed, falling amongst the furs politics and peace all but forgotten as the King in the North buried his head between his queen's legs.   

Sansa felt his tongue on her bud, soft and moist. She leaned her head back taking deep breaths. _I want to enjoy this._ Lucky for her, he took his time making slow circles before pressing his finger inside of her. He would stop and kiss the inside of her thighs even giving her little bites that made her gasp. Her breath quickened and soon the familiar feeling began to rise in her stomach. She grabbed his dark wavy hair pulling it. She wanted him to keep going and stop at the same time. Sansa let out a long moan. Jon stopped licking between her legs and began kissing her stomach then her breasts working his way up to neck and mouth. 

Sansa reached for his manhood, clasping it in her hand. He let her guide him into her. _Gods this feels so good._ They made love slowly. Jon lifted her long legs to his shoulders pressing into her. She could feel him start to speed up. He was going to come soon. She reached for him staring into his gray eyes. They looked almost black in the night. She saw the dark fire in them. The rage just underneath the surface pulling her towards him. He's a wolf, not a dragon she told herself. He groaned as he came before he collapsed on top of her. 

Tangled in furs, they both fell asleep. Sansa dreamt of Lady sitting in the snow in the courtyard the shadow flying above her, screeching, spewing fire all around her. Lady sat still as stone until blood starting dripping from her neck turning the white snow red. Sansa tried to run to her but the dragon spewed fire and Sansa could not reach the wolf. 

"Sansa...Sansa...wake up," Jon's voice urging her awake. Breathing heavy, she stared at him, tears in her eyes. Had she been screaming again or just twisting her body her terror? He never told her. "It's just a dream," he said holding her in his arms. 

"Yes, just a dream," she said curling her body next to him. _It's just a dream. You are still my wolf, for now._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	14. Bran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brandon Stark has reached Castle Black with his friend, Meera Reed. He can feel Jon and Sansa's presence everywhere at the castle. In his dreams and visions, he sees their secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter! But I was very nervous about sharing it. I have a lot of headcanon about Jon and Sansa as kids and this chapter plays into that. 
> 
> **For the record, I don't support any kind of corporal punishment for children. Going with the fact that it was common in medieval times. In this case, it doesn't really hurt them. However, the whole situation is meant to illustrate how the adults in their lives actively worked to discourage a friendship between them.

It had been almost a week since Bran and his companion Meera had arrived at Castle Black searching for Jon Snow. Except, Bran knew Jon had already left Castle Black for Winterfell with his sister Sansa. Pretending to be surprised by the news when Dolorous Edd Tollett had relayed the tale of the Battle of the Bastards as the North called it, was easier than Bran thought. It was the waiting that was the hard part. Edd and Meera insisted that they wait until word from Winterfell was received before starting out on their journey home. As impatient as he was, it was a relief to have a place to rest with consistent warm meals and no fear of the others at least not yet. 

Everywhere at Castle Black, Bran felt his brother's who was truly his cousin's presence. He could feel Sansa's shade too. She had not been at Castle Black long yet the men of the Night's Watch still spoke of her. Her radiant beauty filled with sadness. Her auburn hair the wildlings called kissed by a dark fire flowing in waves down her back. They said she was the saddest lucky girl they had ever seen. Other wildlings at the wall said her eyes were like ice. They claimed that the day she arrived she was pale as death, bruised, covered in dried blood, eyes cold and only her hair seemed to be living. _Ice in her veins they said._ They spoke of how the former Lord Commander who had died but was alive never took his eyes off her even at times watching her fall asleep before posting guards along side himself and her Lady Knight outside her door.  Bewitched by her sadness, they said. The only time they smiled was at each other. The only time they seemed alive was when they rode off to battle. They sang of a white wolf and red risen again. 

Bran listened to the stories the Night's Watch and the wildlings told of his family becoming more and more fearful of who he would find when he went to Winterfell.  As the three-eyed raven, he had seen them defeat their enemies to reclaim their home. He had seen Jon declared King in the North. He had seen the truth of Jon's parentage. Then he had stopped seeing. _Stopped wanting to see._  

 Meera had asked him if he had any more dreams, had warged into any more crows, or wanted to visit the heart tree just on the other side of the wall every day. He said "No". She would ask again today. Bran knew it was time to visit the weirwood to face what was waiting for him. He could feel the ghosts of his brother/cousin and sister calling out to him. _Except they aren't dead._

The Night's Watch had given him Jon's old room, he laid in the bed that morning. He had dreamt of Jon and Sansa talking in that room. In his dream, Jon watched Sansa as she slept with Ghost next to her on the bed the fire slowly going out. Jon was so engrossed with a sleeping Sansa that he did not notice the room growing colder until she began to turn to ice.  Bran watched Jon try to shake her awake only to have the ice shatter into a million pieces. In the dream, Bran watched Jon stare at the shards of ice cutting his hands. The worst part of the dream was that Bran never saw Jon weep. _Dreams are not real._   He told himself but he knew it was a lie. Dreams were clues to the future.  _The weirwood is more than a clue, it will give me the truth._

"Rise and shine," Meera teased peeking her head through the door to wake Bran. _She has perked up since we arrived here._  He just gave her a sour look. "Don't be so sour. Maybe we'll hear from Winterfell today."

"The Ravens only just went out. Not enough time has passed for us to receive a response," he said glumly. 

'What is it then?" Meera asked, "Did you have a dream?"

Bran only looked away wishing he could still warg into Summer at night instead of dreaming. "You can tell me, you know." she added before turning to walk out of the room, "They'll be breaking fast soon. It would be good..."

Before she could finish Bran said, "I feel them, everywhere."  
Meera stopped and turned back, "Who..the others?" she asked with fear in her voice.

"No, they are close but it's not them," he said. Meera waited for him to tell her.  
"It's Jon, Jon and Sansa," he said sadly.   
"Of course, they were here," she said. "The men talk about them all the time. Stories of how brave Jon was, how beautiful Sansa is. Even I could write a song about it." Meera sounded slightly annoyed by the talk.   
Bran looked at her sharply, "It's more than that. I see their ghosts walking past me. Talking to each other. Like they are dead but alive."

"Bran, they are alive," Meera said. "At Winterfell."

"I still feel them here, too." he responded. 

"Maybe it is time," she said.

"I know," he agreed, " Can you get Dolorous Edd?" They would go to the weirwood grove during what little hours of light they had today. 

It was a clear, frigid day. Bran rode with Meera on an old sturdy garron in a saddle they had fashioned for him. It felt good to ride with his head held high. _This is how I will ride to Winterfell. Jon will not see me as a cripple._ Dolorous Edd the temporary Lord Commander of the Night's Watch rode with them along with 5 of his best men.   
"You don't all have to join us," Meera said to Edd Tollett as he brought his horse up next to hers. 

"Yes we do," he answered. "Imagine what Lord Snow, I mean his grace, the King in the North, would do to me if his recently found little brother disappeared?" he added with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Can't believe I agreed to this, my lady."

"Well, you did," Meera responded. "And it wasn't a choice. He is a Prince of Winterfell."

"Aye, as ya like to remind me when ya want something." He added, "Let's make sure you and your young princeling get back. Don't need the Red Wolf feeding me to some dogs because her brother's been snatched by the others, either."

Meera felt Bran tense in the saddle in front of her at the mention of his sister, "I thought you said not to listen to what the men and the wildlings said about the Princess Sansa." she chided him.   
  
"That I did, my lady, in truth her grace was mostly kind to the people here. True, she always looked a bit sad.  But she taught the little ones in Mole's Town sewing. Found old cast-off clothing in the store rooms and had 'em learning to make winter clothes."

Bran finally spoke, "She loved her needles." 

"That she did," Delorous Edd laughed, "The Watch got a whole mess a new gloves all embroidered with direwolves. Some better looking than others."  
  
Bran smiled at the thought of Sansa teaching a hoard of wildling children to sew gloves with direwolves on them. 

"I won't lie to you, though. Your sister when she first came here looked the way some women look when they ain't treated right," Edd Tollett said.  Bran knew Delorous Edd was too kind to say the words, to tell him his sister had been tortured, brutalized, or worse.    
  
"Don't think they treated her right in the South, and that bastard of Bolton was worse." Edd sighed, "When ya face monsters. They can take part a ya soul. Leave ya empty like. That's what some saw in her eyes." 

"But once she was here and safe and with her brother, she got better," Meera stated.

"Maybe...hard to say if ya ever really get better. And Lord Snow he's seen more monsters then she has I reckon," Edd stated. 

They approached the weirwood grove, Meera had told Edd to have the men stand off to the edge of the grove. While, her, Bran and Edd stayed near the tree in the center. The men believed they were there to honor the old gods. It would do no good to have them watch Bran go into a trance under the tree. Meera had also made sure that Bran knew they could not stay there so long. It would take time to get back to the Wall and Castle Black. They must return before the sun went down. They had such little daylight there was hardly time for the journey to the grove and back. 

Climbing off the horses Edd helped Meera pull Bran down. Dressed in the heavy furs he had worn while North of the Wall, he could still feel the freezing cold ground. _It has gotten colder than the last time we were here barely a moon ago_. He pulled himself toward the tree reaching for the face carved into the weirwood. 

 In just moments, Bran found himself wondering through the Godswood at Winterfell. It was late spring or early summer, the sun shining high in the sky, the ground had become warm. Sunlight was coming through the tree branches. He heard children's voices nearby. The boys' voices rang out along with the sound of sticks hitting against one and other as the children came toward him. When they appeared before him, Bran thought one was his Lord Father.  He had seen young Eddard many times before in his visions. But no this child was narrower, not so tall, his hair wavier, _Jon_ Bran thought _. I've never seen him as a child only as a babe or in battle._ Bran knew immediately the other boy with dark auburn hair was Robb. His heart ached in that moment. _I'll never see Robb again._  He had thought he heard another child. Jon and Robb weren't alone. Someone, someone very young was watching them. 

The sound of a branch breaking caused the boys to turn running toward the noise.  
"Who goes there?" shouted Robb pretending to have the authority of a lord.  
"Shhh" said Jon, "It might be the dragon. Don't scare it!" 

Young Robb ignored Jon's warning rushing toward the offending trees stick in hand ready to attack. Stopping just before taking a blow to the tree, "Ugh...Sansaaaa" Robb said annoyed. "I told you to stop following us."  
Bran saw a small auburn haired girl in a short blue shift, _She is so young_  , he thought. Robb and Jon looked to be about 7, Sansa must be no more than 4 or close to 5. The little girl looked down, "Please, I want to play," she said softly. 

"No! We're hunting a dragon. It's not for babies," he yelled at her. "Go back to the nursery."  
Little Sansa stuck out her bottom lip determined, "I'm not a baby! I'm almost 5 years old." 

"You can't play with us! Go away," Robb yelled at her.

It looked as if tears were starting to come to her eyes when Jon who had been sitting on a tree root finally stood up.

"It's ok Sansa," he tried to console her. Turning to Robb he said, "Maybe she can just watch us."

"Nobody just watches a dragon hunt," Robb countered.

Thinking Jon said, "Well, I'm Aemon the dragonknight, you're Daeron the Young Dragon, we need a Queen Naerys."  Sansa smiled at the thought of being a famous Queen.

Robb shook his head but agreed telling Sansa she could come but only if she was quiet. Bran watched the three children run through the Godswood. _I never saw them play like this. Sansa was always too proper._

Soon it became apparent that Sansa as Queen Naerys was only interested in following her new found champion in Jon the Dragonknight.  Any direction he went she was sure to follow leaving Robb to catch up. Jon for his part indulged the hero worship that the little girl was lavishing on him.  It didn't take long for Robb to get bored of this and start running off on his own. Finally, Jon claimed to see the dragon in a tree near one of the shallow hot springs. He climbed up the tree as far as he could then down again. Sansa begged to see the dragon too. The branches were low enough for Jon to lift Sansa up so she could sit on one.  She laughed with glee looking down on the world.   
"It's so beautiful. I can hear the birds. And the leaves are so pretty," she said in awe looking down at Jon smiling. Bran saw Jon smile back at her. _He hardly smiled when we were children. Except when he was laughing with Robb. Jon and Sansa never played together when they were older. Maybe, Jon and Arya but never Sansa._   

Turning to look up, she began to repeat the word, "Bird, bird, pretty bird.." over and over again in her sweet sing-songy voice swinging her legs from the branch she was sat upon. Jon had his hands held up above his head holding her back to ensure she did not lose her balance and fall. He could not see her face as she gazed up at the branches and birds. Suddenly her legs stopped swinging and her body went limp. 

"Sansa..what are you doing?" Jon shouted as she began to fall backward off the branch. He lost his balance trying to hold her up causing both to tumble to the ground.   
"Owww ouch," Jon said as he fell on his back with Sansa landing right on top of him. For a flash of a second Bran thought he saw her eyes roll back in her head. _No, it couldn't be?_ The moment was over and Sansa began laughing.   
  
Ahh birdy, bird, flying," she said as Jon gently rolled out from under her.   
"Sansa, if you're going to be a bird, you better learn to fly better." he told her. 

"I can fly," she said. "Birdy fly, see." Spreading her arms wide she began to spin in a circle pretending to be a bird. 

 Soon, they were both laughing and covered in dirt, grass, and leaves. Noticing a small cut on Sansa's leg, Jon led her to the spring to clean it off. While they were washing their dirty hands and legs, Sansa shyly splashed Jon with water giggling. 

"Oy, now you're a fish, are ya?"Jon said and splashed her back. Before Bran knew it the children were playing in the spring, their clothing soaked. _Sansa was never like this either._  It was as if he was watching two entirely different children. Two children that only looked like Jon and Sansa. 

Jon took off all his clothing but his thin summer braies. Sansa took his lead and pulled her blue shift over her head wearing nothing but a very thin white underslip. They continued to play and splash in the water until they were exhausted. Their wet summer underclothes clung to their small skinny bodies. Finally, laying next to each other on a warm rock with just their feet dangling in the spring. _They look so happy._  Sansa's head in the crook of Jon's shoulder. She was prattling on about how beautiful the trees were, birds, and flying. Jon even leaned over and kissed her forehead. She cuddled closer to him and started singing a song about Aemon the Dragonknight. 

Bran heard the footsteps before the children did. Lost in their daydreams and songs, they didn't see their Lord Father approaching them before it was too late. Lord Eddard had spotted young Jon and Sansa still wet barely in their undergarments arms around in each other laying on a rock. 

"JON SNOW," he said loudly grabbing for Jon as the boy tried to jump up. Sansa saw her father and looked terrified. Lord Eddard caught her by the arm as well. Pulling both to face him and kneeling down in order to look them in the eye. Bran had rarely seen his father look that angry. 'What are you two doing?" he said raising his voice.  
Sansa spoke first, "We were playing. They were hunting dragons."  
"They?" Lord Eddard asked, "And where is Robb?" 

Jon just shrugged. "It's my fault. I said she could play."

"You're right it's your fault." Lord Eddard said his voice rising, "She's a babe. You could've gotten her hurt or worse. If Cat..Lady Stark would've found you.." He didn't need to finish his thought for Jon to understand his meaning.

"I'm not a babe!" Sansa yelled, "I'm Queen Naerys, Jon is Aemon the Dragonknight. Then I was a bird and I was flying. We were playing."  
Lord Eddard looked shocked at Sansa's response. "Is that how you play? Laying on rocks in nothing but your smallclothes?"  
Both Jon and Sansa looked down at that. "We got dirty..." Jon started to explain.  
Lord Eddard started to get angry only Bran thought he saw a bit a sadness come over him. "You are brother and sister."  
"Half-brother and sister," Sansa responded. "It's different than Robb or baby Bran."  
Bran saw this pain Lord Eddard even more, "You must understand you are brother and sister."

Standing up the Lord of Winterfell looked down at the two children, "You must be punished."

"Nooo," they both said in unison. "It's was my fault" they added at the same time.   
"Well since it seems you are both to blame, I must punish you both." Now it was Bran's turn to be shocked. Lord Eddard rarely punished them as children.

"Sansa Stark," he said picking up a nearby branch, "Ten lashes."

Sansa looked scared. Jon whispered to her, "It'll be ok, don't cry you are a wolf. You are a Queen."

Sansa bit her lip and somehow held her tongue. By the fifth lash she almost made a sound. Jon grabbed Lord Eddard's arm. "Please," he said. "I'll take the rest." Lord Eddard stopped for just a moment. Long enough for Sansa to say, "No, I'm ok." before her father finished her punishment. Bran could see the silent tears that had run down her cheeks. She was told to stay and stand quietly while her father dealt Jon the same punishment. Bran noticed his Lord father swung the branch much harder for Jon. 

After he finished, Lord Eddard knelt down to face the young children again. "Sansa you are a Lady. One day you may be more than that." he looked at both of them adding "No more playing in just your small clothes or there won't be any playing at all."

"Yes, father," they both said solemnly. 

"Sansa run along back to the nursery. Ask a wet nurse or Old Nan for clean clothes. And for the love of the old gods do not tell your lady mother what has happened or I'll be forced to lash both of you again," he commanded her. She ran off and as Jon went to follow her, his Lord Father who Bran knew was Jon's Lord Uncle, grabbed his shoulder. "One moment, Jon. Sansa is to be a great lady one day. Maybe she will even be a Queen.  She will need her brothers to look over her. " Bran thought that based on the story of the battle for Winterfell, it was Sansa that watched out for Jon. "You must always treat her as a lady. As a queen. You must never play like that again. Or I will have no choice but to send you away. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Lord Father," Jon said before sulking off back to the castle. 

"One day you may be called on to be her champion just as Queen Naerys called on Aemon the Dragonknight," he called out to Jon who stopped for a moment kicking the ground but did not look back at his father. Lord Eddard sighed and walked toward the weirwood tree in the center of the Godswood. 

Bran watched him sit there in thought with a look of sadness on his face. _He knew about Jon all along. He knew Jon had a claim to the throne. He knew Sansa could be his queen._ He watched Lord Eddard place his head in his hands to weep.Bran tried to think back on when they were children. He had never seen Sansa and Jon play alone together.

The sky in the Godswood began to grow darker, the air colder. Bran watched his father fade away and be replaced by two figures kneeling before the tree. As they looked up, he saw Jon and Sansa grown. Each had one hand on the tree and the other intertwined with each other's. Sansa wore a bronze and iron tiara with blue sapphires to match her eyes.Jon in a cloak that matched the one their Lord Father had worn. Bran listened to the words they were saying promising themselves to each other and the old gods. _They know Jon is Lyanna's son._ Two figures, a lady in armor and a boy dressed as a squire, watched their mouths agape. The night air was frigid their faces pale with cold. Only their eyes seemed alive, Sansa's blue like the Wall on a cold sunny day and Jon's a dark gray winter sky. 

Bran felt a hand on his arm, shaking him out of his trance. 

"It has been too long. We must return before the light is gone." Meera said shaking him violently, bringing him back to the world of the living.  Bran stared at her blinking for several moments before nodding his head in agreement. 

When they reached Castle Black, a steward from the Night's Watch approached Delorous Edd with a message. Bran saw the Stark seal right away. 

Edd looked at him, "It's too soon to be a response." Opening the letter Edd read silently before rolling it back up.

"It's seems Winterfell has a new heir," he said. Seeing Bran's look of confusion. "Your brother, the King in the North has made that pretty sister of yours his sole heir. The North will pass from her to her children."

Meera questioned him, "Is that all it says? Nothing more? He does not say why he did this?"

"Looks to me like it was sent before they received word of Bran here. Probably decided it was necessary. Seeing they didn't know you were alive and there's sure to be more wars to come," Edd answered. 

"I don't want to be heir," Bran said. _I am tied to the trees._

"Well, sounds like you won't have to worry about that," Edd said. "Too bad they are brother and sister. Would've made a right kingly and queenly couple, those two. Made to rule over ice and snow, I'd say."

_He doesn't know how right he is,_ Bran thought to himself. _What have you done Jon and Sansa? They mean to rule the North together. They mean to be more than Queen Naerys and her beloved Aemon ever could be._  Bran knew his brother-cousin would leave Winterfell in Sansa's care to fight the great battle that is coming. _He will go fight and he does not know if he will come back_. 

 


	15. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa's dreams continue to haunt her. They do not prevent her from trying to learn more about the mysterious Lady Dayne's motivations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love this chapter! I might still refine it some but I just really enjoyed writing the main part of it.

**Sansa**

 Sansa woke to find the spot next to her on the bed empty. _Already, training in the yard._ Taking a few moments before rising, she buried herself deeper in the furs. It was not the cold that kept her in bed, the dreams had come again last night. 

Before her and Jon had taken Winterfell, she dreamed of Lady, her direwolf, being killed by her Lord Father. Each time her Lord Father's face turned into Jon's and she woke before the knife came down. Lady was not resting in peace.

Another dream of Lady had started haunting Sansa's sleeping mind. The pretty young wolf was sitting in the middle of the courtyard. Yet, Sansa could not reach her as a dragon flew overhead spewing flames. Sometimes, she would find herself lifting off of the ground flying to meet the dragon. Except she was just a small bird, a little dove, or a snowy owl. She was no match for the massive dragon. As fire surrounding her home, she would find herself falling toward the ground. Leaving her awake in her bed terrified. The dreams happened most often when Jon left their bed early to train in the yard.

Sansa had given Brienne the task of helping her dig up the dead direwolf's bones in the lichyard. No easy task with the snowdrifts and frozen ground to contend with. Luckily, northerners had ways to dig through the icy ground. Once, Lady is moved, she thought, maybe we can both rest. 

Pushing dreams and dead direwolves out of her mind, Sansa decided it was time to rise. She chose a dress of thick dark blue wool with gray fur linings embroidered with silver direwolves on the sleeves and hem. Leaving her hair lose, Sansa noticed how long it had grown. Before the Winter Light's Feast, she had trimmed it only to remove the frayed ends. Still, it had grown past the middle of her back. Some days she braided it or plaited it with two braids starting from the crown of her head and meeting in the back. Today, she decided to simply leave it all hanging lose giving her an untamed look. Gazing in the mirror, she thought the girl she had been when she first went to King's Landing would be shocked by the Northern woman she had become. _That girl hadn't dreamt of her dead wolf_. A sadness washed over Sansa, _That girl was silly but innocent and so so young._  

Once dressed, Sansa made her way to the battlements overlooking the castle yard. Watching the men train, was still something Sansa did most mornings or at least the mornings her and Jon did not lay in bed hiding from the world. Most mornings, he snuck out of her room at the first hint of a gray dawn. They must at least pretend to heed Lord Davos' constant warnings of servant gossip. _We want them to gossip_ Sansa sighed as she watched the men practice in the yard. Following Jon's instructions, the men took turns fighting. Brienne also worked with them. _Jon must be patient. Our Lords must think they know the truth before we tell them. We must find out who loves us and who is our enemy. If they believe we love each other they will not care that Jon is a Targaryen, I hope._

Glancing up towards the gray sky, Sansa noticed her snowy owl flying overhead. She smiled at the magical beautiful bird. Thought, how effortlessly it soared through the sky. A pang of sadness welled up in her as she again remembered her dream. _Think of something else._ Looking back down at the yard she tried to focus on Jon's movements. Willing herself to remember how he held her the night before. How warm his body felt pressed against hers. How she wanted to get lost in his sad dark eyes. 

Deep in her thoughts, Sansa barely noticed Lady Dayne approach, her soft slow steps barely making a sound.

"Your grace, good morning," Lady Dayne's voice barely whispered.

"Lady Dayne, same to you." Sansa nodded politely. She did not know how to regard this mysterious lady who today wore a light gray-violet hood and cape that made her violet eyes shine like they were laughing. "You must be very strong to travel so far in winter. The North is so very much colder then Dorne or Essos. The journey from the Neck must have been very difficult."

"That it is your grace," the lady replied. "Though, I would not say I am strong and the journey is quite long." Sansa had seen how exhausted and wane Lady Dayne appeared since her arrival. She was often taken to her room.

Sansa had compassion for her, the North was not an easy land. "Please, Lady Dayne have our Maester look in on you. I will have a special hearty soup made just for you. Our Lady Mother always had it made for us when we needed strength."

"You are very kind, your grace," she nodded. "Though, your Maester does not attend council meetings. Or rarely leaves the rookery for that matter."

Sansa looked surprised at Ashara Dayne, _For a woman that has been ill and hardly left her room, she certainly notices quite a lot._

"He was the Bolton's Maester brought from the Dreadfort. ..We have requested another to be sent as soon as possible," she answered seeing no reason to keep the simple truth from Lady Dayne. She did not need to add that soon might mean never if the Citadel did not agree with an independent North. Lady Dayne would understand well enough that a new Maester would depend very much on the Citadels opinion of Northern independence. 

"A wise decision," commented the Dornish lady.

She added, "I am sure our current Maester is adequate at treating illness."

"One would hope, your grace," Lady Dayne said. 

Sansa only smiled cooly at that. "I often like to visit the Godswood. Please, if you would join me, Lady Dayne."

"It would be my honor, your grace." The two woman began to walk along the battlements, toward the stairs making their way to the Godswood.

As they reached the entrance, Sansa grew bold, "I hear you have brought us news of the dragon queen?"

"I am not sure it is news, your grace. Merely a suggestion," peering from underneath her fur-trimmed hood, Lady Dayne looked a Sansa. The Queen felt Lady Dayne's violet eyes taking her in.

"A suggestion of an alliance, then." Sansa corrected herself. _She watches us, she watches me. Does she see my mother in me? The woman that took my father from her._

"Yes, I suppose," was her only answer.

"One that benefits, Dorne and House Dayne?" Sansa asked. _I must be direct with this lady. Show her there is nothing to hide. At least nothing to hide that she does not already know._

"I speak only for House Dayne's interests," she stated. "That Dorne is supporting Daenerys Targaryen is an additional reason for House Stark to forge an alliance." _An additional reason for who? We do not know if this Mother of Dragons is a friend or an enemy. Most likely she is both. Lady Dayne must understand that just as much as I do._

"Why does she want it?" Sansa continued to question Lady Dayne. "Why does she want the Throne?" _And why do you want her to have it? Or do you want her to have it?_

"Why does the sun rise and the rain fall, your grace?" responded Lady Dayne.

"Nature, the gods," Sansa answered, "Maesters will tell you one thing. Septas and Septons another. The Old Gods tell us nothing."

"And which is right?" asked Lady Dayne just as they approached the weirwood tree in the center of the Godswood.

"The one people believe," Sansa answered. Lady Dayne looked at her curiously.

"As a girl, I wanted to be Queen. It was all I ever wanted," Sansa said as she stared away from the tree. "Not the Queen who sits on the Throne or rides dragons. I wanted to be Naerys who stands beside her king." _It is what I was raised to be. To stand quietly beside someone. To always be gracious. To never play too rough._

"Naerys loved the Dragonknight not her king," said Ashara.

This made Sansa smile,"Yes, Aemon." The memory came to her suddenly as the women continued their walk in the Godwoods past the warm springs and cool pools. Sansa could almost hear the sound of children running through the wood. A dark-haired boy and little red-haired girl searching for a dragon. _But we never played together._ The memory came to her anyways. She could almost see herself and Jon splashing in the water in nothing but their small clothes. _No, no that isn't right. I was never supposed to play like that,_ she thought pushing the vision out of her head.

"She chose to love Aemon above all else. Above her King, despite what anyone thought," Ashara Dayne said as she revisited the old story. 

"She was forced to marry for political reasons. Separated from Aemon," Sansa continued looking away thinking of how unfair the world was, a world where Naerys could not choose her husband. _Aemon would have been a better king then Aegon the Unworthy. Naerys a better ruler._

"Was she, though?" Ashara asked, "He joined the Kingsguard to be near her. As queen she held power. Her life was not easy but was not without merit, not without possibility?"

"As a Queen consort?" Sansa asked. "Standing next to a king silently while the man you love watches from a distance, what life is that?"

"I see," she said, "And now, you wish for something different. A different dream perhaps."

"My dreams, my dreams were silly dreams," Sansa answered flatly.

"Were they your grace?" asked Lady Dayne. "Seems like dreams many young girls have."

"They do not know," shaking her head, Sansa said. "They do not know what people will do to you to try to get near that power. To try to make you stand quietly. They will try to control you, destroy you, hurt you and everyone around you, highborn and low."

Lady Dayne nodded, "One could rule in their own right. As the Mother of Dragons seeks too," she said.

"Only fools wish to rule in their own right," Sansa again retorted.

"Then why did you take back your home. Why take back the North? If only fools would do such a thing," she asked the Queen.

"There was no other choice," Sansa said.

This brought a smile to Ashara Dayne's face, "Sounds like a woman who wants to rule, to me?"

The two women stood in silence. _I wanted a family with little children in my home like the one I grew up in. The dark-haired boy and the little red-haired girl or maybe another that looks like Arya. Not secrecy, politics, peace, war, death, there is always death._ Sansa looked over at Ashara Dayne who had taken a seat on a large tree root not covered by snow. She had begun to look exhausted again.

"It was you who wanted the North?" Ashara Dayne stated more than asked.

"Yes," Sansa answered.

"And all those things you wanted, the happy family, the peaceful people, all your girlhood memories, they do not come so easily do they?" asked Lady Dayne.

 _This woman reads my thoughts_. "Winterfell is my home. The North my people. The Vale took me in," Sansa said. "I owe them that dream, I owe them happy families, peace,"

"And defeating the Boltons was as much for them as for yourself? " Lady Dayne asked.

Sansa only nodded slightly in agreement while Lady Dayne continued, "This dream will not come true while you stand alone. You cannot stand against Cersei alone, against the Others alone. The North cannot stand alone."

"It cannot." Sansa agreed, "It cannot stand alone. Yet, it must stand equal, Lady Dayne. We will not bend. Not again."

Lady Dayne looked out from her hood, Sansa could see a slight smile. "The North must stand equal or you must stand equal?" Ashara Dayne asked.

"Both," Sansa stated.

Suddenly, footsteps could be heard running toward them. An out of breath Podrick soon appeared looking like a surprised deer. "Laaa..ddyy..I mean Qu...I mean Princess Sans...your grace.." he stammered while panting.

"Yes Pod?" Sansa said sweetly. "What is it?"

"His grace..." still panting Pod struggled more than usual to get the words out. "He he he...saaaid...well..he yelled..to bring youuu..at once. He said it must be at at at once."

"Of course Pod, I will come at once," she said before adding, "Run along and tell him I am coming." Turning to Lady Dayne, the Queen in the North made her apologies and thanked the Dornish woman for joining her adding that she would send the soup and the Maester later that day.

Following Podrick through the path in the Godswood, Sansa wondered what could be the meaning of this, _the day has barely begun and already Jon wants to see me._


	16. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Sansa receive a long awaited message. Later, Jon tells Sansa he must go South to protect them from the wars to come. Of course, the news does not go over well.

**Jon**

Jon waited in his solar pacing the length of the room clutching the raven's message. Podrick ran in first to tell him that the Queen was on her way. Jon forgot to remind the boy that he still must call Sansa, Princess. He even forgot to be annoyed that they had needlessly confused the boy with the secrecy of their marriage.

All he could think about was the message, the relief, the joy, and something else. The uncertainty of their situation perhaps. It would never be easy ruling in the North.

Sansa entered the room in a flurry almost out of breath, "What is it, Jon?" she asked. He saw she did not notice that Podrick was still there even forgetting her courtesies, as she ran straight towards him ready to embrace, her face flushed, her hair windblown.

"Podrick, leave us. Don't go far, we will have need of you shortly, I fear," the King commanded the young squire of the Lady knight. Watching the door close before he pulled Sansa close to him. He pressed the two pieces of parchment brought by the raven into her hands. "Read," he said before returning to his pacing.

He watched Sansa's hands begin to shake, her breath growing heavy as she finished the first paper. "Is this true...?" she asked.

"Read, both," he told her.

"Oh gods be good," she said still shaking and somehow finding the high-backed chair to lower herself into. "His mark has changed some but his words...oh Bran."

Jon went to kneel at her feet. "Edd wouldn't lie...not about this. And the second letter." He took the paper from her hand to read again for hundredth time since his man had brought it from the rookery.  
  
 _Jon and Sansa,_

_It pleases me to know you are home at Winterfell. I have arrived at Castle Black thinking you, Jon, would be here. Lady Meera Reed attends me and has been the most valiant friend. Summer is dead as is Lady Reed's brother Jojen. We miss them greatly._

_The men of the Night's Watch have made us very comfortable. We wish to make the journey to Winterfell when we regain our strength._

_There is much and more to tell you both. I know of your sorrow and your joy. I do not wish to be a Lord. I wish only to see my family. Will wait to hear from you._

_Your brother, Bran_

Taking her hands, Jon saw the tears slowly well up in Sansa's eyes, he could feel his own tears start to slowly pour down his cheeks. The relief flowing from them in waves.

"Our family.." she said. "I didn't want to believe he was really alive...I know you sent word out to search for him. Still, I was afraid...I was afraid it wasn't true or that he would die or..."

"I know" Jon answered, "I know."

They embraced silently holding each other until Jon looked up to wipe the tears from Sansa's eyes. She laughed, "You are crying, too."

Suddenly, Jon felt sheepish, he was the King in the North. _Kings don't cry when their younger brothers are found alive._ "My eyes are only watery from the cold," he replied.

Sansa leaned back laughing at him through her tears. "Oh Jon Snow, No one will fault you for a tiny tear when your brother comes back from the dead. It's not all ice in your veins, yet."

This made him smile until he remembered whispering, "If only Bran was my brother."

"For now he is...at least to the North, he is. To him, he is your brother." she told him, "The men of the Night's Watch, we will have them bring him here? Soon? It will be so sweet to see him."

_As sweet as it was to see me?_ Jon thought jealously before pushing the thought from his mind. "Dolorous Edd said he awaits our instructions. I can only imagine how weak they must be." Jon stood and began pacing again, "We must tell Lord Reed of this news."

"Of course, joy and sorrow for him. He will want to mourn as well as message his daughter," Sansa thought out loud. "Ask Lord Reed and Lady Dayne to take supper with us privately tonight," she told him. 

Jon agreed and they spent the next part of an hour in stunned silence. Jon alternating between pacing and kneeling to comfort his Queen as Sansa re-read Bran's words through teary eyes. 

"Where has he been all this time?" she asked him.

"I don't know. North of the Wall," Jon said. "The things he may have seen." Jon saw the look of realization appear on Sansa's face. _They horrors he must have seen. The horrors we have seen._

"And what does he mean 'He has seen our joy and our sorrow'?" Sansa asked looking up at Jon. In truth, Jon had no idea. 

"Maybe he mis-wrote it. Maybe he heard of Rickon's death? Edd will have told him we have returned to Winterfell," Jon guessed. 

"Yes," agreed Sansa. "That must be it." Jon stood next to the chair gently touching her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. She tilted her head up at him. Her sad haunted look had returned.  

"We'll bring our brother back," he assured her. "Don't worry."

Finally, Sansa rose to leave him, straightening her dress claiming she must see to castle renovations and make plans for their dinner. He nodded as she left the room every bit the composed Queen, her feelings hidden under a mask of gracious kindness. 

Bran would see his sister much changed, thought Jon. _He will see me much changed._ We both wear masks in front of our people. The King in the North was aware that some of the Lords found them cold and distant. That was until Sansa spoke with them asking after their wives, children, and small folk. If they wanted for anything, she would do her best to help them even when there was little to go around for all. _We may survive winter but will we survive Sansa's generosity?_ Just yesterday, she was digging up clothes for the children of Winter's Town. 

Jon returned to the ledgers, he would have to make arrangements to ensure Sansa's goodwill did not drive them from the castle while he was away. It would be a long afternoon if he was to put all he was planning into place. 

The light had waned hours before, Sansa arrived back in his solar now in her black velvet gown with silver and gold embroidery. Auburn waves cascading over her shoulders, the tiara he had given her upon her head. 

He watched her observe the set table that had been prepared for their dinner. Sansa sent the servants away to bring the food.  _My Queen_ he thought _._ Walking towards her, Jon gently kissed first her forehead then her nose, then her lips. They embraced with a long kiss before Jon forced himself to pull away. 

"I've informed Lord Reed of the message we received," Jon told her. "I thought he might want to mourn privately for his son."

Sansa nodded in agreement at that. Jon watched her circle the table wishing they could skip dinner and go straight to their bed.  _Gods, if I could I would take her now.  
_

"We will have enough to discuss during dinner," she added.

"Yes, I will ask him to accompany me to the wall," Jon told her. 

"What?" Sansa asked. "You will go to get Bran?"

"Would you have your brother come home alone?" Jon asked, "The Watch does not have men to spare for such a journey. It's too dangerous. You know what could be out there."

"Then why not send our own people," said Sansa. "Let Lord Reed go and I will send Brienne."

Jon thought on this. It was not a bad plan but knew he was the one who must go to Bran. _Sansa will not like it but she will understand._

"It must be me," he said. "I must speak with him. He says he does not want to be Lord but how can he know." 

Sansa turned away from him pacing the room retreating into her own thoughts. She often did this. He could see her mind working and yet she kept so much to herself.  Only revealing her plans once they were in motion. This time it was his plans that would be followed whether she liked it or not. 

"And after the Wall," he began to say, _She will like this even less._ "I will go south to Dragonstone. It's past time to solidify an alliance."  He watched her freeze before the hearth refusing to turn and look at him. 

"You have decided to go South, I see," she said coldly.

"Sansa, we need allies," he replied. "You know this."

"Do I?" she turned to face him her eyes cold never raising her voice. "You made this decision without consulting me."

"Sansa, we have discussed this so many times," he reminded her. _True we hadn't come to a decision but one had to be made. "_ It can't wait. Someone had to decide."

"Just because Lady Dayne recommends it doesn't mean we have to do it immediately. We could wait until spring, we could send ravens," she said. 

"No, Sansa it can't wait," Jon said growing angry. "You know what is out there. It tried to attack you. Don't you understand?"

"What?" she asked. "What don't I understand. You want to leave us, leave the North, leave me!"

"I have to go," he responded his voice raising slightly. 

"To bring a Southern army to fight the wights?" she asked. " Do you think Daenerys Targaryen will send an army to freeze in the North? To fight the others and wights she's never seen before?"

"No Sansa, I don't," Jon said now almost yelling. "But she'll keep Cersei from coming North."

Jon saw the confusion on Sansa's face. "I thought you didn't care about Cersei. I thought you meant to let them fight amongst themselves," she said. 

Now it was Jon who turned away from Sansa not saying anything.

"Jon, tell me why are you going," she almost commanded. _Gods, she is a Queen._  

"To avenge our family. To convince the Mother of Dragons the others are coming," he stated. looking back at Sansa, Jon finished by saying, "And to keep Cersei from coming to kill you." _All of that is more than true. And I want to know who I am. I want to meet this Targaryen Queen. Maybe she is like my father._

They both stood in silence, him burning with frustration, she still cool as ice. 

Walking toward her to take her hands only to have her pull away from him, Jon told her what he should have told her days ago, "We received a raven from King's Landing 2 days ago. Cersei demanded you be turned over or she will send her army for you."

"Where's the letter?" was all Sansa said.

"I burned it," he replied. At that, she stared even harder at him. 

"If the wrong person found a letter like that. If Littlefinger found a letter..." he began to say when the door opened to allow Lady Dayne and Lord Reed enter.

Jon still exasperated watched Sansa quickly compose herself all the coldness leaving her body and becoming the gracious Lady of Winterfell. 

"Lady Dayne, Lord Reed, thank you for joining us this evening," she said with warmth and concern in her voice. "I am so sorry for the news you have received."

'Thank you, your grace," Lord Reed said his voice heavy. "It was not unexpected. I dreamt my son left this world many moons ago. The confirmation is of course, difficult. I'm grateful that my daughter is still with us, along with your brother."

"As are we, my lord. Bran said your son was a valiant friend. We are so grateful your children helped him," she said. 

"Thank you, your grace," he said.

"Please, in private it is, Sansa. Our families are forever joined more now than ever before," she said to him. "Shall we sit?"  The small party took their seats at the round table while Sansa commanded food to be brought and a serving maid poured the wine.

Dinner began with few words spoken. The news hung over the party which would not have been the most talkative group in the best of circumstances. Jon relayed the plan to go to the Wall to retrieve Bran and Meera Reed.  Lord Reed would accompany the children back to Winterfell and Jon would travel on to White Harbor to take a ship to Dragonstone provided by Lord Manderly. It would be a long hard journey in winter. They would have to wait several days to begin in order to ensure that the weather would stay clear until they reached Castle Black.  

The conversation turned to who would join them and who would stay. The major decisions would be finalized the next day at their council meeting. Jon, Lord Reed, and Lord Davos would go with enough bannermen and guards including several Knights of the Vale if Lord Baelish would allow it.  After which they would divide their group. Jon and Davos would begin the journey to Dragonstone while Lord Reed and the Knights of the Vale would return to Winterfell. Sansa would be the Stark in Winterfell with Brienne in charge of the remaining garrison along with Lord Royce who managed the men of the Vale. 

Jon noticed that Sansa spoke very little during this discussion. Her face maintaining her mask of ladylike courtesy. Jon avoided the subject of Bran's right to Lordship saying only that Sansa would remain his heir. The matter would no doubt be discussed at their council meeting. 

It was Lady Dayne who spoke. "I am glad you have decided to treat with the Targaryen Queen," she said. 

"Yes, we must make an alliance," Jon said looking at his Queen before turning back to Lady Dayne.  

"It is not an easy thing," she said. "But you will need the dragon queen against Cersei and more importantly against the others."

"If we can unite the realm against the others," Jon said earnestly.

"I would not pin my hopes on that, your grace, if I may speak frankly," Lord Reed said. "Many will join but many will prefer to hide in their castles and keeps." 

Jon looked to Sansa willing her to speak. Again, she kept her thoughts to herself only a slight smile grazing her lips. He knew she would have much to say later. Even in front of such private company, they would appear as a united front or at least she would not openly disagree with him just as he would not disagree with her. 

The dinner continued with only four courses. Jon ate very little nor did the crannogman. To his surprise, both Lady Dayne and Sansa seemed quite hungry. Sansa had taken to eating very little since they had reunited. Though, tonight she ate everything and more. 

"It is our hope that upon Lord Reed's return with his daughter that you shall all stay on at Winterfell until the spring," Jon said to both their guests. Lord Reed and Lady Dayne looked at one and another. It was another issue he had not yet discussed with Sansa. 

Sansa finally spoke, "I believe that is the only choice, your grace." Jon looked at her curiously. She added, "It would be quite dangerous for Lady Dayne to make a journey back to the Neck in winter in her condition."  He noticed Lady Dayne look down while Lord Reed placed his hand on hers.

Sansa continued, "Apologies for being so forthright. You are with child, Lady Dayne, are you not?" 

"Yes, your grace, I suppose the Maester informed you," Ashara Dayne said with a slight smile. "It is still quite early. If truth be told, I did not think I would ever have a child again. I did not even believe Lord Reed when he told me of his dreams."

"His dreams?" Jon asked confused. He was shocked by the revelation that Lady Dayne was with child and quite awkward when it came to talking about such matters. 

Lord Reed who had suddenly become quite protective over Lady Dayne said, "Yes, I dreamt of wolf pups in the Godswood of Winterfell finding a large lizard lion egg on our journey here. Lady Ashara did not believe me." He smiled warmly at the lady. "I dreamt of spring and many young animals in the Godswood," he added. 

Jon looked at the couple who would be the age of Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn, the only parents he had ever known. He had known they shared a room in the castle and it had been apparent that they were lovers. The confirmation of this made him deeply uncomfortable. He had not imagined them still young enough to have a child but he supposed they were.

"We must have a wedding then," Jon said. All three looked at him eyes wide.

"Forgive me, your grace," Lady Dayne said quietly. "It is not something Lord Reed and I have discussed."

"Yes, we are very happy as we are, your grace," Lord Reed added. "My first wife died just two years past and...I've just lost my son..."

"A child should not be born a bastard," Jon said firmly.  

"In Dorne and the Neck, it is not such a problem to be born a bastard," Ashara Dayne replied. "And...your grace...I like being Lady Dayne."

 Jon looked to Sansa for support in this. She stared at him harshly. _She is still angry with me for making plans without her._ He knew she disliked arguing with him in front of their bannermen or other lords of the North. _She has an opinion on this._  Jon thought of Lady Catelyn who would have been horrified by such a relationship. Sansa was not her Lady Mother.

"House Dayne is a great and ancient House. There is no reason to give that up, Lady Dayne," Sansa said staring at Jon. "Maybe there is a middle ground. A child does not have to be a bastard if the king does not wish it."

"I do not wish it," Jon said firmly with just a hint of anger in his voice. 

"Then by royal proclamation the child won't be," Sansa said turning her harshness into a smile for Lady Dayne and Lord Reed. "Shall we toast to your joyous news?" 

Jon realized he would lose this battle. He had decided to go South without expressly getting Sansa's consent. Now she would make requests of him including legitimizing Lady Dayne and Lord Reed's unborn child whether he liked it or not. He feared it would not be the end of Sansa's requests. She will make decisions for Winterfell and the North while I am away. _It is how it should be. She is better at it. But she will make me pay for going South in winter._

The rest of the dinner turned to lighter topics. Jon watched Sansa ask after Lord Reed's daughter. Wanting to know what she was like. Telling him how happy she would be to have Lady Meera at Winterfell. She asked Lady Dayne to tell stories of Essos and all she had seen there. Despite the heavy news, the evening ended pleasant enough. After Lady Dayne and Lord Reed retired, Jon and Sansa had one more glass of wine. 

"It is kind of you to legitimize Lady Dayne and Lord Reed's child," she said to him.

Jon laughed at that, "I did not say I would do that. I believe you implied that." _She does not even smile at this. She really assumes I have agreed to this._

"All the same it is very kind of you. Since you will be away, I suppose I will have to take care of matter for them," she said matter of factly. "A woman should not have to choose between her name and her husband's if she does not want to."

"Aye," he agreed eyeing with suspicion. "But what of the child? What name shall the child have? Their mother's or their father's?"

"Whichever their parents choose," Sansa said confidently. "Wherever they are raised, perhaps. Or the name they feel closest too. Or the name they choose."

"I see," Jon said not entirely convinced. Knowing they were not really talking about Lady Dayne's unborn child. 

"No child has to be a bastard," she said. "Any child can make their own way in the world. Can rise high. Can fight for their people against monsters."

Jon nodded listening to his cousin-lover Queen. This was hardly the girl he had grown up with. The girl so proper she had called him half-brother as soon as she knew what bastard meant. He knew it was in the Vale that she learned the truth of being a bastard. As Jon listened to her earnest speech, he saw the kindness that had grown in her heart.  _She will make them love her. As she made me love her._

"You are a Stark, Jon," Sansa said her voice cracking. "You are...the North." 

"I'm sorry," he said reaching for her hand. "That I did not consult you fully before deciding to go to Dragonstone. We had talked about it so many times. I have to see for myself. I am not only the North." He remembered the rage in his veins when he beat Ramsey Bolton. _There is fire in my blood, too._   

"Will you tell her you are Rhaegar's son?" Sansa asked.

"I don't know," Jon said hesitantly. 

"We don't know if she is a friend or an enemy," she said. 

"Or what she will want," he added.

"We know what she wants," Sansa countered rising to stand near the hearth. "She wants the seven kingdoms back."

Jon merely looked at Sansa seeing the resignation and sadness in her face. 

"If we want peace, if the others are truly coming and we must fight them, we will have to bend to her or she will want a marriage alliance," Sansa said to him. 

"You are my queen," Jon said firmly. 

"Marriages can be undone when they are not convenient," was all Sansa said. They stood staring into the fire in the hearth. Jon's heart felt heavy. He moved toward his Queen to embrace her, reassure her. She let him hold her for a long moment before pulling away. "I am very tired this evening. I think I'd like to rest alone, tonight." Sansa said as she began to walk out of the room. Jon looked at her with longing, he wanted to spend every second until he left with her. She turned back only to say "Good night, your grace."

After she left, Jon sat in the high-backed chair near the hearth, his head in his hands. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really torn over having Jon make this decision! I know he has to do it... Don't worry he won't be falling for Dany anytime soon despite Sansa's concerns.


	17. Brienne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne completes a special task for Sansa. Later, Jon and Sansa finally reveal the truth to no one's surprise. But as it is in Westeros, another mystery immediately presents itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next three chapters took me forever! There are only going to be 4 more chapters in this part of the series. So it's going to end with a lot of questions. Hopefully, that will make Part 3 even better! 
> 
> The revelation is a bit anti-climatic. But that was kinda Sansa's plan all along. Oh and Littlefinger is still alive...I'm working on that.

**Brienne**

Brienne had decided she did not like the cold at least not this cold. The cold in the North was something she had never experienced before. She had thought it had been cold at Castle Black just a few months earlier. She was wrong. Since the maid of Tarth had returned to Winterfell from the Riverlands it was even more frigid. 

Practicing in the yard was not so bad. The King had bonfires lit while they trained. Some mornings, Brienne even thought she felt a tiny bit of sweat on her brow. Though, if she moved too far from the fires the moisture from her breath would freeze the cloth covering the lower half of her face. Brienne had never in her life been so content to stay inside when not training. 

This week staying inside was not to be for Brienne and her squire Podrick. The Lady of Winterfell, secretly the Queen of the North, had commanded Brienne to oversee the most sensitive of tasks. She wondered to herself what could be so sensitive about this task before sighing and remembering she had sworn herself to Sansa Stark. _I did not know how cold it would become when I did that,_ she thought. 

Brienne looked around the empty lichyard waiting for Podrick. A snowy owl flew overhead as if it was overseeing the work they were doing. Sansa's owl the men who had traveled with them to Deepwood Motte called it. They claimed it followed the Princess. The Wildlings claimed it was was the Princess. Whatever or whoever it was that owl had been watching them everyday they had been out in the yard.

 It had taken them three days just to clear the snow from the newest corner of the yard revealing the headstones of loyal Stark servants. Luckily, the headstone they had been looking for was in that far corner. A small gray stone that simply read Lady below a carving of a direwolf.  

Brienne had first thought the task of digging up the dead wolf in winter impossible. How could one dig frozen ground, Brienne asked her lady as respectfully as possible.  She soon discovered that the Northerners were ingenious when it comes to the cold as Sansa had explained how to use wood ovens to thaw the ground. 

Even with the steel barrels filled with burning wood, the task was painstakingly slow. First one had to light the two ovens above the grave for a few hours, dig several inches than light the fires again to thaw the next layer. Today, they had finally reached ground that was not so frozen. She had even begun to see the outline of the buried wolf. 

Brienne remembered that Sansa had warned them not to use the fires once they reached the direwolf's body. She did not want the wolf to thaw and risk rotting again. 

Podrick returned with more wood for the ovens, "Here, my lady...ser," he said. 

"Thank you, Podrick," Brienne said. "Now, we must use the pick and shovel, only."

"My lady..ahh ser..that will take a very long time," he replied.

"I know, Pod," Brienne said with dismay. "Her grace does not want the direwolf to thaw." Podrick nodding to her and jumped into the hole to begin working. Before Brienne could join him she heard a loud voice calling her name.

"Brienne, the maid of Tarth!" shouted Tormund Giantsbane. She tried to suppress her annoyance at the large wildling man.

'Hello, ser," she said coldly. 

"Ah, I'm no Ser," he said. 

"On that we can agree," she said. He laughed loudly at her comment. Is he drunk already at this hour, she thought. 

"I was not joking, ser," said Brienne.

"Call me Tormund, ya beautiful woman," he told her. Following the statement with, "What would ya do if I stole ya away?" he asked. No, he is not drunk she concluded only unstable. 

"I would slit your throat," she said without looking up from her work. 

"Ahh haha," he laughed even louder. "My kinda woman,"

"I'm to go to the Wall with, King Crow to get the little crow," Tormund declared.

"His grace, is the proper way to refer to the King," she told him. 

"I don't give a flying pig's arse, what is proper. He'll always be a crow to me," Tormund said rather violently. 

"And his brother is not a crow at all. He's a boy, a prince." she clarified for the wildling. 

"All the same," Tormund said.

Brienne just shook her head. 

"When I come back there is supposed to be some fort or castle that I'm to take over." he said, "One of the ones on the Wall. Could use a strong lady like yourself to help me with it."

Brienne thought she would die if she had to spend a night in an even colder place than she was now. In a broken down castle, with a man like Tormund, the thought was too much to bear. 

"I'm sworn to protect the Queen. I must remain by her side."  

"Queen she is now..." he said quizzically. "Yes, I suppose we can call her Queen," said Tormund his voice trailing off. Brienne said realizing her slip to late. _They still have not told their lords. These secrets were wearing on her._

 "If I stole you the proper way.." Tormund began to say. 

Throwing down her shovel she looked at him directly, "Ser, you would not steal me because I would kill you first. Now please I have work to do."

"Ahh, a good death is all someone like me can ask for," he said walking off. "And, there's a meeting before the dinner hour. Final plans or something."

Brienne and Podrick continued their work making progress. By the early afternoon they were able to lift the body of the direwolf out of the grave and wrap it in cloth. She was much smaller than Ghost, the lady knight thought. She must have been much younger when she died. Brienne had heard only bits of the sad story from Sansa. 

It was almost dark when they placed the wolf in the crypt. In a small chamber past the kings of winter and lords of Winterfell. Despite the dark, they still had a few hours until their meeting. Brienne decided to bathe and rest while she had a few moments to herself.  

It had been a more than a week, since the news of Brandon Stark's appearance at Castle Black had reached Winterfell. Preparations had been underway since that day for the King and Lord Reed to go meet the young Prince and Lady Reed. From there, the King along with Lord Davos and a few key men would travel to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and on to Dragonstone.

Brienne saw how the Queen had gone quiet since the plans were revealed. She begins to join this world only to retreat again, thought the lady knight. Her nightmares had grown more frequent, again too. Since the feast, Brienne had remained stationed outside her lady's door most nights even when the King joined his Queen. The Lady Knight's presence kept wondering eyes and ears from lingering too long near the door of the Lord's Chambers. 

She had grown accustomed to the sounds of soft lovemaking. On nights that the King did not join his secret Queen, he posted his most trusted guards at her door allowing Brienne to rest. It was not the sounds of lovemaking that bothered her. It was the nightmares. 

Brienne had yet to know a time when the secret Queen did not have them. Shortly after re-claiming her home, Sansa's nightmares seemed to subside a bit. It could be days, even a week without hearing a loud scream or muffled tears. Sometimes, she would simply call for Jon in a soft voice like she did at Castle Black when he sat next to her bed while she slept. 

One night Sansa screamed so loudly in her sleep, Brienne rushed into the room despite or maybe because the King was there. _It was not unheard of, for men returned from battle to become violent with those closest to them. Sansa trusts the King_ she thought, _And I do, mostly. Except when his gray eyes go very dark. There is a rage in him._

As Brienne saw Sansa flailing in her bed clawing her face, she rushed toward her just as the King who had been standing by an open window did the same. On either side of her, it took the two of them minutes of holding her down before she woke up. It was only then that Brienne became embarrassed at the site of the King naked. She watched him hold Sansa tenderly caressing her hair as the Queen looked small and scared. The scene reminded Brienne of the time Jaime Lannister had fainted in the bath. How she held his naked body in her arms. How their skin touched. Awkwardly, she left the room. 

She had become an accomplice in the young Starks deception. Though, it could hardly be called one. That Jon and Sansa had fallen completely in love with one and another was an open secret in the castle, one that only the two rulers seemed to be naive enough to believe no one knew. They are still children in so many ways, she thought. Granted, she was not much older. Still, she wondered if they understood what their recklessness could lead too. She could not decide if they simply did not care or wanted to be caught. 

The curious song that Brienne had heard Podrick mumbling had done it's work as well. It seems to have sprung up in the taverns of Winter Town and a report from Barrowton even mentioned it. Brienne walked in on two kitchen maids arguing over whether the King in the North was Ned Starks' son or nephew. As soon as they saw her they stopped their debate and returned to their work. 

Brienne bathed and dressed for the meeting. Thinking about Jon Snow's origins, Sansa nightmares, and at the odd moment seeing Jaime Lannister's face float through her mind. She wondered if she would ever see him again. 

The council meeting that afternoon had more than the usual attendees. It was three days until the King would leave for Castle Black. Final preparations were being made, assignments solidified. Brienne would be given a new role as head of Winterfell's guard. Sansa's cold silence during the meeting could freeze Dorne. She remembers her politeness even if she is frozen on the inside thought Brienne. She speaks kindly to Davos and Lady Mormont and Lord Reed and Lady Dayne. She saves the coldness for when she looks at the King or Littlefinger. 

It is of course Lord Baelish who sat in opposition of everything. The man still thinks they should be looking south to the Riverlands. _He wants help claiming his lordship at Harrenhal._ Every time the man opened his mouth Brienne found herself reaching for her sword.

Lord Reed spoke, "We have heard of disturbing reports in the Riverlands. It would be wise to have more forces at Moat Cailin."

Sansa turned toward Lord Baelish. "Since you are so keen to be near the Riverlands, my lord. Might you favor sending a portion of the Vale troops back to Moat Callin?" Sansa added. 

"A third?" he asked.

"It would protect the gateway to the North. If troops are needed in the Riverlands then you will be there," the King clarified. "Though, for now, we have no intention of taking troops South."

"And we want to have enough troops at the Nightfort," Sansa added. "We could send some Vale troops there as well."

 _Good,_  thought Brienne, they are weakening his forces at Winterfell. She watched Littlefinger, he seemed calm. Though, he no doubt, does not like this arrangement. His Lords will be pleased. They want to be a part of this battle, part of any battle. 

"Your graces, have you secured the funding for this war with the others?" he asked. Jon and Sansa looked at each other.

"That is a point we will discuss with Daenerys Targaryen when we form the alliance," the King said. "She will need our help as well."

'We could approach the Iron Bank," Davos said. "As Stannis did." Brienne thought she noticed Sansa give a slight twitch of displeasure at this. 

"Perhaps, House Dayne could help," Lady Dayne said. Littlefinger's head turned toward the small woman. Even Brienne's ears perked up at this. House Dayne was not known for it's wealth. 

"That is very generous, " said Sansa. "With the other assistance, you are giving House Stark. We will forever be in your debt, my lady."

The small Lady smiled slightly, "Do not fear your grace. Our wants are simple, nothing that you can not provide."

"And will you be telling us what those are, Lady Dayne?" asked the King. 

Brienne saw the mysterious Lady Dayne smile at the King. "House Dayne believes it is better to plan for 10,000 years than 5, your grace."

"None of us will be here in 10,000 years and some may not be here in 5," the king replied. Brienne thought he stared a little too long at Littlefinger when he said this. 

"This is known. But our children will be and their children and those that follow. Here under summer snows and morning stars is a place for children born of the sand and the marsh," she said. 

Sansa addressed her, "I see your meaning, my Lady. We will consider it, carefully. We have already agreed to satisfy some of your wants." The King nodded along with his Queen. _How very bold this quiet mysterious Lady Dayne is. She wants land in the North for the bastard babe she is carrying. A lord or ladyship is what she is after._ Brienne almost shook her head at it. 

"You speak of other's future children but not your own, my graces." Lord Baelish said. 

Again, the lady knight saw the King and Queen look at each other. "There are many rumors in Winter Town these days. Idle gossip, I'm sure..." he continued. 

The King cut him off, "It is not gossip, my Lord." The entire audience stared at the king in awkward silence. No one moving. No one wanting to be the first to speak. 

More than half the room already knew at least parts of the secret. The other half suspected it. No one was surprised by it. Though, this did not deter the King from standing and talking very seriously as if it were the first time anyone had heard it.

"We have uncovered information in regards to my...my parentage," the King said. "After finding an unused headstone. And confirming with the Citadel and Lord Reed. I am the son of Lyanna Stark."

Lord Baelish leaned back looking at Jon smiling with only his mouth. "And I assume this means your grace is the son of Rhaegar Targaryen." Jon gave the group a pained look and nodded. 

The audience looked around waiting for someone to say something. A few lords coughed. 

"But we already knew that," said Lord Royce of the Vale. "Well or suspected it."

Lyanna Mormont gave the King a sour look, "Yes, this is not news. We have heard the song sung by the servants."

"There is more," the King said.

"Aye what King Crow. Ya take your half-sister or whatever she is to wife?" Tormund asked with a laugh. "We know that, too. We hear that, too." 

Jon and Sansa looked mortified at this revelation. Tormund went on, "All these Southron arses are too scared to tell ya to fuck quietly. People need to sleep"

The King glared at him, "There are ladies present, your Queen is present." he said. Tormund stared back. A muffled sound could be heard next to the king. The Queen was trying to suppress a laugh. It was impossible and finally she was laughing so hard her eyes were wet. The rest of the room was still silent. 

"Oh my good lords and ladies," she said wiping her eyes. "Tormund is correct. It takes a wildling to speak truth. However, crudely he might say it." Composing herself, Sansa added, "Our apologies for concealing the truth. We wanted to confirm everything and to be sure the North would remain secure."

Lord Davos spoke now, "That was not unwise," he said. "And you have truly married?"

"Yes," the King said. "We married the old way. Brienne and Podrick were witnesses." Brienne felt all the eyes in the room turn to face her. All she could do is nod her head in agreement. There seemed to be an air of relief in the room. _If the only telling the truth to the rest of the realm would be so easy._ Brienne doubted it would. 

The meeting continued with the King and Queen going over the remaining preparations for the trip and the command of Winterfell in the King's absence. Lastly, they were told the formal announcement of Jon's parentage and their marriage would be made at the small going away banquet to be held the day after next. 

As the Lords left the meeting, Brienne thought,  _No more secrets._ ,  _Can there ever be no secrets in a castle?_ Looking at Sansa as she left the meeting hardly saying a word to the king, Brienne saw that he was not at ease. His eyes followed Sansa as they did at Castle Black with a mix of concern and desire. Before, Brienne could follow her lady out of the room the King called to her.

"A moment, please Brienne." he said.

"Yes, your grace?" she asked.

"It is very important that you watch over her. I worry leaving her even with Bran returning," he said.  
  
"Of course, I am her sworn sword,"

"Thank you for your service, my lady knight," he said. Looking around the empty room, Brienne thought there is more the King wanted to ask her. His eyes begged for help. He wanted to reconcile with his Queen. He wanted assurance that she was only angry with him for now.

Brienne took pity on the King, "She is not truly angry with you, your grace," Brienne said.  _Not that I really know. It seems the right thing to say._ "She understands that you must go to the South. She is just afraid."

"Of the others coming?" he asked.

"No...not really..." Brienne said. "She's afraid of her nightmares." The lady knight saw that this pained him even more. "And she is afraid of losing you," she added. "I'll take my leave, your grace. Dinner will be served, soon."

"Yes, of course," he said adding. "Thank you, Brienne."

"You're welcome," she said as she walked out of the room. That evening, she noticed that the King did not join them for dinner. Sansa stayed at dinner for only a short time before retiring to her chambers. 

As Brienne took her post at Sansa's door that night, she heard the sound of the King's voice already inside the room. She thought she heard words of muffled reassurance, promises for the future, of the Queen relenting. He seems to be the only one who can melt her coldness when it comes. _Maybe, he really is a dragon._


	18. Davos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa studies with Davos and recalls the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is meant to establish a few things.   
> If ya are looking for the smut that's coming next chapter! And I promise it will be worth the wait. ;-)
> 
> This part of the series is almost finished. I know it will leave lots of unanswered questions and certain people alive... Things are getting a bit dark and heartbreaking. But as they say, things will get worse before they get better...but they do get better!

**Davos**

The room below the Rookery was cooler than most of the rooms at Winterfell. It was only heated by the hearth where most of the castle was heated by the hot springs pushing hot water through the walls. Soon, it will be too cold to use this room. Every day was as cold as the one before and some were colder. This would be the last of their lessons together. Shortly, after taking the castle Sansa had come to him when she was still a Princess and not a Queen with a private request. She had heard that he had recently learned to read and thought that she could help him with his literature if he helped her with her sums. 

The Queen told him as a young girl sums had been her weakest study, now she wanted to improve her skills to better help the King. Davos suspected there was more to her request. Littlefinger was known for his ability to make money appear as if by magic. As the Lord Protector of the Vale pressed the young rulers to look to their enemies in the south, Davos wondered if the rulers knew were the men and the money would come from. Needless to say, the Lucky Princess who was now a Queen likely has the same concerns. Sansa's questions had far more to do with complex trading, debt repayment, and taxes than with simple household accounting. _She wants to know the cost of war not just in men and land but dragons and stags. She learned something in the capital._  

The revelation that she was now the King's consort, the Queen in the North, had come two days previous. This knowledge did not surprise Davos, even before the revelation in the crypts the Starks affection for one and other was apparent. Davos had seen the looks at Castle Black, noted the long evenings the two spent talking softly in Jon's room there. He did not fail to notice the closeness between the two as they traveled the North preparing for battle. They were hardly apart, sharing furs in their tent at night, the direwolf laying between them. _Nightmares, she claimed. I am sure she has them._

 The King's true parentage had been a relief to Davos if truth be told. The pair could live as they would like. Though, he did wish they had been more discreet about it while the truth was still a secret. Even the servants noticed, how often the King spent nights in Sansa's room. And nightmares could not explain away the sounds of lovemaking. That has all changed now, Davos reflected. The announcement made yesterday to all the castle and ravens sent this morning to the Lords of the North. Jon Snow was claiming both his heritage and his Queen. 

Sansa entered the room in a long bluish gray fur-trimmed cloak. Her eyes glittered like the blue-ice of the Wall on a sunny day, cheeks rosy from the cold, and her auburn waves growing ever longer down her back. A package in her hands was wrapped in a gray cloth embroidered with two crowned direwolves, one white and one red. 

"You are well, today, your grace?" Davos asked her kindly. 

"Yes, Lord Davos," she answered all warmth and sweetness, "I must admit I'm quite sad, this will be our last lesson."

"Yes, I am too," he responded. "I promise I will continue our studies."

She smiled while holding out the package to him, "Here for you. For all your council these past months. I could not have..I mean we couldn't have re-claimed Winterfell without you."

_Aye and you could not have convinced your King to go to battle for you without my urging is what you mean._ Davos took the gift in his hands carefully unwrapping the cloth to uncover a beautifully ornate book. Opening it he could tell it was a history of heraldry of the great houses and small of Westeros. 

"Thank you. This is very beautiful, your grace," he said overwhelmed by such a fine gift from a Queen. "It will help me very much as we travel south."

"Yes, I hope it will," she said with more than a touch of sadness in her voice. "I will miss you all very much." Composing herself once more she added, "Shall we begin our lessons."

They studied for almost two hours. The first hour spent answering Sansa's questions in regards to interests on debts and taxation on trade.  The second spent drilling Davos on heraldry, family trees, and ancient alliances.  As the second hour waned, the pair relaxed into a less studious conversation. 

"Might I ask your grace, who ever told you, you were bad at sums?" he asked leaning back in his chair. 

"Well, Robb and Maester Luwin seemed to think it was my weakest subject," she admitted. 

"Saying sums is your weakest subject is like saying the long sword is his grace's weakest weapon," Davos replied. "Might not come as naturally...but ya can still kill a man."

She smiled saying, "If I could kill a man with sums." Davos found himself chuckling at that.  "Well, they always told me I was better at other things."

"Rubbish," Davos said. "They always said a child raised in Flea Bottom wouldn't ever read let alone be a Lord." Davos watched Sansa fiddle with a quill picking it up and putting it down again while she stared towards the small window. 

"When we were children we all studied in this room together. Robb and Jon and Arya and Bran and me, even Theon and some of the Winterfell children." she said then adding  "It was wrong not to include all the children of Winterfell."

"Aye, well, if I'm any indication even the lowest of us have potential, your grace," he said. 

"That's what I hope to prove one day. When all these wars are done," she said glancing back at Davos. 

_War will never be done_ , he thought. _The best we can hope is that it moves far from here._

"Maester Luwin would have us help each other. The older ones would help the younger. One time he wanted me to work on my sums. So he assigned Jon to help me," she said turning her face away remembering a time long ago. A dreamlike look in her eyes.

"Jon would barely look at me, mumbling into the papers," she said with a slight laugh. "For a time, Maester Luwin would always try to pair us together."

"Do you think your Maester knew of Jon's parentage? The birth records were at the Citadel." Davos pointed out folding his hands together on the table.

"Buried at the Citadel," she corrected, "Maybe...maybe" then she shook her head. 

"No, it was something different. Once, maybe a year or so before the King came to Winterfell. I came to this room before the others. I liked to come to read or write or draw. Father was here speaking with Maester Luwin. Something about bastards being allowed on the Kingsguard and Queensguard with a special decree. Saying ' he cares for the girl. she will need her family close.' Father shook his head saying no, no, no, Bran can be a Knight. Maester Luwin said Bran was too young 'she needs an older brother' to look after her if she's to go to King's Landing. If she's to become a queen. After that they heard me and stopped the conversation"

"It would not have been unwise, to send a brother with you to King's Landing," Davos said. "Bastards have been in service at court many times before. And Robert would have granted your father anything."

She shrugged. Davos added, "It's why they gave Loras Tyrell a white cloak. To look after Margaery."

"And it got them both killed."

"Cersei had them both killed, your grace," Davos countered. 

"It makes no difference. Jon never wanted to worship the seven. And well my Lady Mother would have made the whole thing impossible. Though sometimes...I wonder..." Sansa's voice trailed off. 

"After that, Maester Luwin stopped having Jon help you?" Davos asked. 

"Shortly thereafter.  Except, the one time when we were older. By then I thought I was better than him anyways," Sansa picked up her quill and returned to doodling on her parchments. "I was horrible..."

Davos looked thoughtfully at the young Queen, who had once been a girl raised to be a Queen. "You were a girl," he reminded her. "A girl who's family had very high hopes." 

_A beautiful girl who carried her family's future on her back._ How tempting she might have been for the boys in Winterfell?  It was not unheard of for young people to steal kisses behind castle tapestries. One slighted Lord could spread allegations, rumors, and her reputation would be ruined and with it, her family's opportunity for power. _It would not even have to be true._ Davos thought of Queen Naerys and Aemon the Dragonknight. 

"You know what I will miss most," she said almost shyly. "Our talks. About how to rebuild Winterfell, settling the wildlings, what to do after winter."

He gave her knowing look. She was now talking about her evenings with the King. 

 "Did you know that when Night's Watch chooses their Lord Commander it can take weeks, even years." she told him. 

"Aye the Night's Watch and The North choose Jon," he said. 

She smiled looking down, "Yes, with a little encouragement."  Davos did not miss the look on Sansa's face. _Did she orchestrate the whole thing?_

"Do you think my idea too much, Lord Davos?" Sansa asked her mind meandering to other subjects.

"Not at all, your grace," he answered, "Educating the smallfolk is kind of you."

"We must get through winter, first," she answered.  Reaching across the table for his arm. "I would like your counsel about the plans. Maybe, this is silly but I could message you while you're away and if you have time you could advise me?" she asked her eyes wide like a doe. 

"Well, of course, your grace," he said.

"That would be so good of you. I just know Jon, his grace will be so busy. And he's never been much for words even when we were children. I don't expect long letters from him," she said with a laugh. 

"Your grace, I'm not sure I will be much better," Davos said. 

"Tsk, tsk, it will be good practice," she said before adding, "Think of it as my assignment for you." 

Chuckling Davos found he could not deny this Queen, "Of course, I would give you an assignment but I fear you have had better tutors than I." He wondered who else she might have writing to her about the journey to the Wall and south. 

"Better perhaps but none as knowledgeable about the world," she said complimenting him. Looking again towards the window, they both seemed to notice the almost dark sky, "Ahh, I must bid you good afternoon, Lord Davos."        

Lord Davos watched Sansa begin to prepare her things to leave. There was a knock at the door. She gave him a questioning look. Their lessons were not secret but they were not well known either. 

"Yes," he said. 

"My Lord," said Lord Baelish as he entered the room before noticing Sansa. "Your grace, I did not expect you here."

"Lord Baelish," Sansa said, Davos noticed she tried very hard to hide her displeasure. "I was just leaving. I'm to meet with the King soon."

"Ahh, the King," said Lord Baelish. "Can I congratulate you on your marriage."

"Thank you, Lord Baelish," she said nodding quietly, Davos thought with a slight iciness to her voice. Turning to leave she added, "Good day my lords."        

Davos could not help but notice the long lingering look Littlefinger gave her as she left the room. A serpent who wanted to devour her, he thought.  

"The King and Queen have come to rely on your advice," Littlefinger stated. 

"I am not their only advisor, Lord Baelish," Davos said. 

"True, they now have Lord Reed and the long lost Lady Dayne," he observed. Davos eyed the small lord suspiciously. "I never knew House Dayne to be such a wealthy house," he added. 

"They are a very old house," Davos said.

"Hmm...yes...in my experience old houses tend to be high on expenses and low on..how should I say accessible funds," Littlefinger said glancing at the parchments left on the table. 

"And you find it odd that Lady Dayne offered to help our King and Queen should they require it?" Davos asked.

"An old Dornish house able to fund a war, rebuild the North..." he said. "I think most would find it extremely odd."

Davos found himself in no mood for this line of discussion, "My Lord, you might not know the financial details of every house in Westeros?"

"Oh, my lord, this is where you are wrong," Littlefinger replied with a slight smile. "I most certainly do know the details of every house. And Lady Dayne is not funding a war or rebuilding the North off the back of House Dayne." 

Davos grew quiet wondering whether Littlefinger was bluffing or not. "Well, why don't you tell us how she's gettin her gold?" he asked.

"That is what I was hoping you could tell me," the small Lord responded.

Davos laughed at that, "Ya must think I'm the shadowbinder not her. No, I'm sorry my Lord. I do not see secrets in shadows or flames." Davos added, "If you're so curious ask her, yourself?"

"Ahh..I don't think Lady Dayne likes me very much," he said.

"And you would be right about that, my Lord," Davos replied.

"Shame...there is opportunity here in the North when spring comes. Ned Stark preferred to stick his head in the snow. But...our new rulers seem to have a different temperament, wouldn't you say?" he asked.

"They understand the threats their people face," Davos said finally standing to begin collecting his papers eager to end this discussion. 

"Yes and in spring those threats will blossom into opportunities," he said. "It would be a shame if Lady Dayne became..hostile to others who would like to help."

"I doubt Lady Dayne would be disagreeable to any friend of the North," Davos said. Littlefinger slowly nodded his head and walked back towards the door. 

"We are to feast tonight," he reminded Davos. "I have much to do before then. Good day, my Lord."

"And to you, Lord Baelish," Davos said as he watched Littlefinger leave the room. 

 

 


	19. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the time for Jon to leave grows near Sansa decides to remind him he is a wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey Dark!Jon, I knew you would make an appearance somewhere in this story. :-)  
> And really he's not that dark...just a little.

**Sansa**

Sansa rushed out of the room below the rookery into the frigid afternoon. She had had enough of Littlefinger's sly looks. Recently, he had been pressing the young rulers about Winterfell's finances, stores of grain, and the cost of the inevitable wars. Every time he opened his mouth she wanted to cover her ears and shout like a child. Instead, she maintained her courtesies as best she could. _I am a Queen now. I must act like one._  

The castle courtyard was covered in fresh snow from the previous night. Reflecting what little gray light was left in the afternoon, she thought it beautiful. The snowy owl, _her owl_ , was perched in an alcove near the door, she had just exited. Walking toward the bird with her hand outstretched holding a few small bones with meat still on them, she had kept in her pocket wrapped in a cloth. Once near the bird, Sansa held very still. The bird hesitated for only a moment before flying toward her landing on her arm pecking at the bones. Gently, she touched the bird's back feathers. It wasn't long before the owl noticed someone approaching and flew off.

Sansa turned to see Jon standing with Ghost a few yards away watching her feed the owl. 

"I think it likes you," he said with a soft smile. She smiled back at him remembering his gentleness the night before. 

"Does it have a name yet?"

"Alysanne," Sansa replied looking up at the bird who was now perched high at the top of the rookery tower. Most likely disturbing the ravens. 

"I like that name,"

Turning back toward Jon, Sansa linked her arm through his. They walked quietly to the Godswood, Ghost following along. Until the previous night, she had been distant with him since his decision to go South. She finally relented, realizing she could not stop the wars from coming just as she could not stop him from fighting them. _I can make sure he knows he's a wolf._  

As they walked, she related the story of Littlefinger's intrusion on her studies with Davos. They both understood that any assistance from other Lords or Ladies would certainly compromise his plans for becoming their largest source of resources. Weakening his forces directly at Winterfell would help but it would not completely solve the problem. Sansa assured her King, Brienne would protect her. She saw the doubt in his eyes. He wants to strengthen our other alliances to ensure we never need Lord Baelish's help again. _Dragons will give us that._

They had planned to pray in the last of the afternoon light. Jon would leave the following morning and it was time to ask the old gods for a safe journey. She insisted that after they go to the crypts to honor their family. She did not believe any of the gods, old or new listened to her prayers. Nor did she think her family heard her cry out. _If they did, Jon wouldn't have to leave, my nightmares would stop, and Littlefinger would disappear into the darkest abyss._ None of this had come to pass. Despite everything, despite her anger with him, she also had a surprise waiting for Jon in the crypts. 

Sitting underneath the heart tree, she watched Jon pull Longclaw out of its' scabbard. He slowly ran a felt cloth along it. Her heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces as she remembered her lord father doing the same thing. He saw her staring at him and put down the sword placing his hand on her knee. She placed her hand over his. 

After a few moments, she got up to walk through the trees leaving him with his sword. The snow was untouched in this part of the wood. She felt the urge to fall into the snow on her back. Laying down she began to move her arms and legs up and down and back and forth making a snowbird. She heard Jon's laugh. He had finally left the heart tree to find her. 

"I'm making Alysanne in the snow," she said. "Here help me up so I don't ruin it."

"Yes, my Queen," he teased reaching down to carefully pull her up. Just as she was on her feet, Sansa with a sly smile decided to give her King a little push for teasing her. Not expecting it, Jon was caught off balance and they both fell into the snow. 

"Aye," he said laughing. They rolled on the ground playfully pressing snow on each other's heads. 

"I'll give you a winter crown, my king," she said. 

"Ha, as my queen you have to wear one as well," He took a pile of snow and mushed it through her hair. She pretended to look angry making him laugh even more. He pulled her in close to him kissing her softly. She did not allow it to last long. They must go to the crypts. 

Pushing away from him and standing up, brushing snow from her blue silken wool gown.  She begged him to follow her out of the Godswood. Again, they linked arms as they walked out of the wood.  

"Thank you, for coming with me," she said to him. He only nodded. He still does not like it in the crypts. But we must honor our family before he leaves. 

Once at the entrance, they descended down the winding stairs into the darkness. Ghost followed behind them. Jon carried a torch from the entrance, lighting other torches as they walked. They pasted the Kings of Winter, then the Lords of Winterfell, finally reaching Lyanna's statue. Icy tears frozen on her cold cheeks. 

"She loved you," Sansa said. 

Jon only grunted and continued to stare. They moved arm in arm to the other statues, Lord Eddard, Rickon, and the empty places for her Lady mother and Robb. 

"I'm sorry I'm going," he said. She turned to look at him. "We are so alone...And I fear the long night is yet to come."

"I'm a Stark. We are Starks," she said. "I survived King's Landing, Lysa Arryn, the Bolton's..." 

"Soon, I'll have Bran with me," she said reaching out to touch the empty place waiting for Robb's body. "And Arya is out there somewhere. I can survive the darkness." They placed candles at all the tombs. Silently praying for their family. 

"I have something I want to show you," she said her voice soft. "A surprise."

"For me, down here," he sounded suspicious.

She smiled, "Oh Jon, don't be scared," she chided him. "I think we are safer down here than anywhere else in the castle." He gave her another grunt. _The dead can not hurt us, not yet, my king._   She took his hand and led him to the far end of the crypts where the wall had fallen in, where his tombstone had been. Sansa felt Jon hesitate. Handing him a torch from the wall she urged him on. He turned calling for Ghost to join them. 

Starting a few weeks ago, Sansa had workers begin to remove the fallen wall, opening up the chamber. After the illiterate workers had moved the headstone with Jon's name, she had them create six places, six tombs for six wolves. On each tomb, space was left for an image of each wolf to be carved. Only Lady and Shaggydog's images were complete made from Sansa's own sketches.  _One day, I'll  find Greywind and when Bran returns we'll honor Summer._

She felt Jon drop her arm as he walked towards the tomb for Shaggydog. Kneeling his fingers traced the image of the wolf. Then he went to Lady's tomb. Ghost followed. 

"She's in here?" he asked. Sansa nodded. 

"I had her moved," she told him. _She didn't belong out there. She was calling to me._  "There is a place for all of them. Our wolves belong together. Ghost can lay next to her." She went to pet Ghost, "Not for many years, though, Ghost," she said as she knelt to nuzzle his fur.  

The wolf started pacing, pawing at Lady's tomb, pushing his nose against the stone. She thought he wanted to get inside to lay next to his sister. Jon tried to console him but the wolf only growled. _He never growls at Jon_ , she thought. After several moments the wolf stopped pacing to lay at the foot of his sister-wolf's tomb. Jon stared at the wolf, Sansa thought Jon's gray eyes were growing even darker. 

"There's something else," she said. "Come." 

Sansa walked toward an opening in the far end of the wolves crypt. It led to a dark hole of a hallway. She didn't wait for Jon to follow with the torch. He would come, besides she already knew the way. The hallway had a slight incline going deeper under the castle as the hallway wound around. 

"Sansa where are you..." He began to say. "Wait..."

She simply kept going until she felt him grab a hold of her arm. "Jon, please I want to show you something." 

 He didn't want to come this far down into the crypts, she knew. But she had found something special when seeing to all the castle renovations including the wolves chamber. _It was so magical. I felt it._

Even before turning the last corner of the hall to find the large vaulted opening, they could feel the air warming and hear the sound of water running. Jon had lit torches behind them as he followed Sansa down the dark pathways of the crypt. As they turned the corner they were in darkness again save for the torch Jon carried. Still, Sansa pressed forward barely making out the vaulted archway. Jon searched for other torches but found none in the passageway. After passing under another smaller archway Sansa stopped suddenly, "Wait," she said. There were more torches along the wall. "Stay near the wall," she told him. 

He did as she bid, slowly lighting the torches. Sansa's secret soon revealed itself to Jon. The room had a dark pool in the center filled with hot water, steam rising from the surface. The light reflecting across the water. A spout of fresh hot water at the far end of the room bubbling into the pool. The other end of the pool closest to the entrance had steps gradually leading into the water. On the walls, there were scenes of direwolves carved into the stone. They were playing in a Godswood underneath a large heart tree. The flickering torchlight made the young wolves look alive as they played. 

Sansa saw him turn to her with a questioning look."There are six," she told him. "I found it, a week or so ago. It's hardly been touched. The water is clean, too."  She had some of the castle servants make sure the pool was clean. The pool and the carvings on the wall looked ancient, untouched since the time of the Winter Kings.

Jon did not respond, just continued to circle the room touching the stone walls, staring at the wolves. "I thought maybe a bath would be nice," She added.

 He looked at her again from across the room still saying nothing. His eyes had grown even darker almost black in the torchlight. Sansa felt an old feeling rise up in her stomach. She wanted him and at the same time was so afraid. _There is nothing to be afraid of silly girl. We have been together so many times. The entire castle knows we are King and Queen, now._ As he circled the room staring at her, she felt her stomach flip, she began to ring her hands. 

"Maybe it was a silly idea..." she started to say as he walked behind her. She watched him lean against the wall in the darkest corner of the room. Standing at the edge of the pool, she removed her cloak. The distance between them no more than a few feet felt immense. He slid his back down the wall until he was sitting with his knees to his chin. Sansa could barely see him in the dark shadows. Though, she knew he was staring at her willing her to go on. So, she undid the laces of her gown letting it fall to the floor. Pulling her underslip over her head, gently taking off her silk wool stockings. Once unclothed she turned her back to her king still sat in the shadows. She could hear his even breath. _He's gone to that dark place. The place that scares me._ She knew most days he kept it hidden from her. Only in the early mornings did she catch a glimpse of his darkness. _He never lets me go there with him. Except, I've seen it in his eyes._

Naked, Sansa stepped into the pool feeling the hot water on her toes. She slowly walked down the steps immersing herself in the water until it came up to her shoulders. There was a ledge around the sides of the pool that left a place to sit. She walked to the ledge and sat in the warmth of the pool facing away from Jon, who was still in his corner. 

Leaning her head back amongst the stone edge of the pool she closed her eyes, _Fine,_ she thought, _If he will not join me and will not take me to his place, I will go someplace else._ She was no longer in the dark room with the hot pool, or in the crypts, or even the castle yard. Sansa was flying high above Winterfell circling the castle, searching the white landscape for food. Without warning, she found herself falling from the sky. Her eyes still closed, she was no longer joining her owl. Some presence was coming into her. Sansa wanted to fight it except it was so sweet, so familiar. Now she could smell Jon, his earthy smell.  She could hear every drop of water, every sound he made on the stone. 

 A cool hand grabbed her shoulder holding firm while the other hand reached for her tender swollen breast. Jon was leaning over her, kneeling at the edge of the pool.  She turned her head to look up at him. The torch light flickering casting shadows on his face. He was still dressed. She pushed his hands away deciding instead to walk toward the steps of the pool. Beads of water ran down her body as she emerged from the water. He hadn't moved from where he had knelt to grab her. 

"To me, Jon," she said in the soft firm voice of a maiden despite the other presence within her. He walked towards her silent. They stood face to face their bodies almost touching. His hand started to reach for her arms, her breasts, her hips. She pushed it away. _Not yet._  

First Sansa removed his cloak, the one she had made for him letting it fall to the ground. She began to undo the straps of his jerkin and pull it off him. Then his tunic, running her hands over the knife wounds crisscrossing his body. She felt his eyes glare at her. Next, she undid the laces of his breeches until they slid down his legs. They stood there staring at one and other. _My wolf, I can't let him forget. He is a wolf of the North first._

A lady always, she gently took his scarred hand, pulling him down to the ground. She spread his cloak making him lay back on it. Sitting with her legs to the side next to his lean body, she wrapped her hand around his manhood. It felt hard and firm in her hand as she moved it up and down. Moving her head toward his cock, she put her lips on him. Hearing him let out a long breath, she took him into her mouth. Sliding her tongue along the shaft, making circular motions. She moved to kiss the inside of his thigh then back to his cock. She ran her teeth gently along it, threatening a bite.  In response he grabbed her ankle, clutching it tightly digging his nails into her skin. His breath heavy moving through his whole body. She felt him pull her leg toward his head in one violent motion forcing her to lie on her side. The Queen willed herself to stay focused on his cock. 

Moving his hands to her hips and bringing them up to his head. He pressed his face into the space between her legs. She tried to ignore him, his wet tongue licking her maidenhead. Keeping him in her mouth. Forcing his cock deeper down her throat until she was gagging. At that moment his hand hit her bum making a sound so loud she was sure the Kings of Winter would wake from their eternal slumber. _Gods, he's taking me to the darkness. My wolf, my wolf,_

It wasn't long before the burning began and her whole body was on fire. Her legs shaking. A cool liquid pouring out of her body.  She could no longer keep his cock in her mouth when she cried out. He pushed her legs away from his face. She laid on his cloak, her chest heaving, watching him as he sat up wiping his hand across his face. His eyes so dark, his face half in the shadows, looking as if he wanted to devour her. _He's not done with me_. 

Again Jon grabbed her hips pressing his fingers into her soft flesh, turning her over on her stomach. Kneeling behind her, she let him pull her up onto her knees. He entered her from behind with more force than he ever had before. _I should be so scared. All the times they hurt me. But I want my wolf. I don't care if he hurts me._

She felt his nails dig into her hips as he thrust back and forth. And she cried out. His hand slapped her bum.  And she cried out. He bent forward squeezing her breast. And she cried out. He bit her shoulder. And she cried out. He moved his hand to cover her mouth. And she bit him back. He squeezed her breast harder. And she cried out. And she bit harder tasting his blood. And on and on it went. The fire rose up inside her more times than she could count. 

This red wolf made him turn her body around while he continued to thrust in and out of her. She bit his chest, dug her nails into his back until she pierced his skin. She pulled his hair just so he would pull her's back. She fought, so he would fight. He forced her to turn back around again taking her like a wolf. When he finally spent his seed, they both collapsed in a heap tangled in the cloak.  

Her mind in a deep haze, her body bruised, she got up to sit in the hot pool. Letting the warm water cleanse her body. She could hear his even breathing on the ground next to the pool. They stayed like that for a long time. Eventually, he joined her in the pool. Sitting next to each other with only their arms touching. Jon had not said a word to his queen since they entered the room. _More animal than man in the darkness of these crypts. Night is here. And we are both animals._ Sansa prayed he couldn't see the silent tears falling down her face. 

 

 

 


	20. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Sansa hold a banquet the night before Jon is to leave for the Wall and then Dragonstone. Lady Dayne presents the rulers with gifts. And Jon says goodbye to his Queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidently posted this chapter with Part 1 first! Oopsie! That's what I get for rushing to post while I was supposed to be working on other things. Then I was on the road and couldn't fix it right away. It's in the right spot now. Please forgive me! :-)

**Jon**

The Great Hall was filled with people, more than Jon had expected for what was to be a modest banquet. Word had spread fast throughout the castle and Winter Town that the King had made Sansa his Queen Consort. In truth, the people of the North already knew. The formal announcement was merely confirmation of the rumors that had being flying across the snowy land for several months. He knew some would never believe it. _They will say I only want to claim the Iron Throne. I don't. They will say I only want to bed my sister. I do._ Jon had long since accepted the truth of that. He had wanted to bed her the moment she jumped into his arms at Castle Black. _Maybe not that moment but it wasn't long after._

Sansa sat next to him, the tiara he had given her on her head. She was regal in her black and gold dress with a direwolf on the front. _You could barely see the wolf bit_ , he thought. She kept her cloak pulled up high around her neck. She couldn't be cold. Sansa never got cold, even when she claimed she was he knew it wasn't true. 

Leaning in his chair, Jon's back stung. He looked down at his hand and saw small bite marks on his finger. A scab was starting to form where blood had been drawn. His mind tried to recall the afternoon. He had been with Sansa, they had gone to the crypts to pray. After that, he remembered a crypt for their wolves that Sansa was building, the sound of water bubbling, steam in a dark room, and more wolves. It all blurred in his mind. Something else was there, Ghost. He glanced at the direwolf sat before his Queen's feet. The animal refused to stay in the kennel during the banquet. Jon didn't know why but he felt extremely annoyed with the animal. _She's not your Queen._

The feast had barely begun when Lady Ashara Dayne entered the Great Hall on the arm of Lord Reed.  A squire followed behind them, carrying what looked to be a sword swathed in a cloth of black velvet dotted with white diamonds like stars. She wore her deep burgundy gown with gold buttons. Her dark hair pulled back at both sides high on her head, flowing down her back a waterfall of lush waves. Streaks of silver shining shot through the raven locks as bright as her violet eyes. Her dark olive face full and warm. The first signs of her pregnancy starting to show on her small curvy figure. _She looks like a goddess. Sansa said she is having a difficult time with her pregnancy but she doesn't look it tonight._ Jon saw the entire hall watch the Lady in awe.

Approaching the dais, Lady Dayne turned to take the sword from the squire. Holding it up for all to see. It was stunning, a milk-white steel. Jon had not realized she had brought Dawn with her to Winterfell. She must have kept it hidden well amongst her and Lord Reed's modest belongings.  

"My King, My Queen, I present, Dawn," she said bowing very low. "Half of an ancient pact that will connect our houses."

_An ancient pact?_ "We are honored, my lady," Jon said turning to Sansa whose blue eyes looked anxious. Her mouth moved as if she wanted to tell him something important. 

Lady Dayne continued speaking. "In the light and the dark. In the sun and the moon. When the star falls and the star rises. A sword is lost, a sword is given, a debt is paid, a debt is owed. Our houses bound in the evening until the morning light." 

The King studied Ashara Dayne, he did not understand her ancient words. Looking again to Sansa, her eyes encouraged him to take the sword. Still, she looked concern. Jon swore for the millionth time to himself he would never let another priestess, shadowbinder or whatever through his castle gates. _I don't care if she is the lover of our most loyal Lord or looks like a goddess come again, or was almost an adoptive mother to me. She has more schemes than my Queen._

The King stood to accept the sword. It was impressive like nothing he had ever seen. Lady Dayne rose, "For you best warrior, a fighter, and a peacemaker, to wield in the great war to come." She finished with a sad smile.  

Jon holding it for a moment for the entire hall to see, "With this, we will bring the Dawn." For a moment everyone was silent, until a lord cried out King in the North. The room erupted in chants of King in the North and Dawn. He motioned for the squire to bring him the black velvet cloth, wrapping the sword he placed it next to his chair. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sansa had been watching him. She gently squeezed his leg once he sat, he placed his hand over hers.  

Lord Reed nodded to the King before helping his Lady up to the far end of the dais. Jon saw how gently he took her arm. For all their mystery and Lady Dayne's ways, Jon felt oddly comforted by their presence. _Still, she is the last priestess._ To the King and Queen's right were Lord Davos, Lady Mormont, and Tormund Giantsbane. While Littlefinger being Lord Protector of the Vale had a seat of honor to the left which he rarely sat in during any feast or banquet. 

The small banquet was joyous, despite the fact that many would be leaving Winterfell in the dead of winter the following morning. The wildlings presence seemed to make any banquet large or small a riotous affair. Jon watched Sansa smile her sad smile as she spoke with bannermen and wildling women. The found was simple, hearty, and filling. There was even music. 

Several men danced with his Queen. Even, Tormund took Sansa for a turn on the dance floor, teaching her a wildling dance. She laughed at his bawdy jokes. The music slowed some and Jon approached his Queen. She looked surprised to see him grab her waist, he thought. 

"My King, you're dancing," she said with a question.

"Yes, is that acceptable," he growled in a low whisper. She only smiled allowing him to take her for a turn on the floor. 

"You didn't tell me, Lady Dayne would present us with Dawn this evening," he said into her ear. 

"I was not aware, my king," she whispered back. He studied her accepting her words.

"Dawn is a beautiful sword," she said. 

"Not as beautiful as my Queen," he replied. 

She laughed at that, "My king is finally learning to talk to women."

"Aye," he said. 

"Still, can't dance," she whispered with a smile. He had no words only a smile for his Queen. He pulled her closer to him. He didn't care one bit about dancing. Jon wanted to be close to her for as long as he could until morning. _He had to leave,_ he kept telling himself. _So, we can all be safe from the others, from Cersei. There is no other choice._

"My King, Lady Dayne, she asked me to her chambers this evening before the banquet," the music stopped before Sansa could finish what she wanted to tell him. She leaned towards his ear. "We must speak on it later." He nodded watching her float back to the high table to speak with Lyanna Mormont and Lord Davos. Out of the corner of his eye, Jon saw Littlefinger glare at Sansa. Jon did not like the look at all, not at all. 

The banquet soon began to quiet, as bannermen retreated to their rooms and barracks. For those that would be leaving it would be an early morn. A few wildlings remained to drink themselves into a stupor. Jon had watched Sansa escort the little Lady Mormont from the hall to her chambers before she retired to her own rooms, _their rooms._ Bidding his men a good evening, he hurried to meet her with Ghost following behind him. At the last moment, he decided to bring Dawn with him. 

Reaching the Lord's chamber, he took a moment before entering. He wondered again to himself why he was doing this, leaving the comfort of this room, of her arms in the middle winter. He commanded the direwolf to sit by the door. _Not tonight beast. You will have her to yourself while I'm gone._ Opening the door, he saw his Queen wrapped in her fur trimmed black and gold robe. Her auburn waves hanging loose. Her hair had grown so long, it shown in the candlelight. She moved towards him. He leaned in to kiss her cheek before pulling away to set the sword down near the hearth and begin taking off his jerkin. 

Jon wanted to be done talking about politics but he remembered Sansa had wanted to tell him about Lady Dayne. Feeling it was better to get the conversation over with, so they could move on to more enjoyable things, he asked her what she wanted to tell him. 

"I didn't, I didn't really understand everything," Sansa said to him. "She talked of the ancient pact, the long night..."

"The ancient pact, the one she mentioned?"

"Yes, between all the kings of the first men, the children of the forest, and the others. The pact must be reaffirmed. Dawn is just a part of it. She will be owed a sword in return, the alliance with the dragon queen, land for her children, the binding of our houses." 

"She told you all this?"

"Yes, no, mostly," she said. "I was very tired after our time...I really wasn't myself when I spoke with her. She can be very hard to understand." Sansa didn't speak for a few moments. Jon thought she looked deep in thought. 

"And then Jon, the gold...she had so much gold. In a false bottom of the chest where father's bones had been at first. I don't know how she has that much. She said there is more." Sansa eyes were wide and she stammered over her words. "For us, Jon the gold is for the North."

"The long night is here, she kept saying. Dawn for Ice, Ice for Dawn. The many houses will be bound by land and gold and blood and love when morning comes," Sansa continued. 

Jon began to understand. The sword of the morning is not merely a fighter or even the best fighter. The sword of the morning can be any person of House Dayne. A peacemaker and a warmonger. You can fight with gold just as you can fight with a sword. His head felt heavy. 

"Can we give her all this?" he said more to himself than to his Queen. "All she wants for the gold?"

"Land the North has, a sword can be returned, her children a name, but the rest...we can't control these things?" Sansa said. 

Jon was quiet. His mind scanning through their options.  

"We must try. For all her ways, she is more a friend to us then Lord Baelish," he told her.   "Littlefinger would sooner have you on your way back to Imp or worse to Cersei and me fallen off a horse if it made him enough coin."

"And what of Littlefinger?" Sansa asked. "I'm to be here, alone with him?"

"You're not alone," Jon said. "Brienne is here. Ghost will be with you. And Lord Reed will return soon."

"What if..." Sansa began to say. 

"He won't expect anything while I am away," Jon reminded her. "With Lady Dayne's gold and once an alliance is in place that he had no part brokering...We will strike." Jon didn't like it. He didn't like any of it. But it was the only way to keep them safe. 

"And what if she wants us to bend to Daenerys Targaryen?"

"She won't," he thought. "That's not the pact."

"Will the dragon queen know that?"

Jon shrugged. He didn't know what the dragon queen would know. Sitting in his chair by the hearth, he stretched his back. It still stung. He noticed how slow Sansa walked as she passed him to sit in her chair.  Deciding he wanted her in his lap, Jon reached for her wrist to pull her towards him. The sleeve of her night robe came up just slightly revealing a dark bruise. He looked shocked for a moment. 

"What..." he began to say pushing up the sleeve further while she moved onto his lap to find more bruises. "Sansa..." his voice filled with concern. She stared at him pulling the top of her robe down, moving her long hair away from her neck. A hint of fear in her eyes.  _Seven hells._  The marks on her neck. "Show me," he commanded. She opened the rest of her robe for him. Revealing hand prints on her swollen breast, a bruise on her thigh, bite marks on her back. 

Shaking his head, "How did this happen?" he asked. 

"You don't remember?" she said. "In the crypts..this afternoon." She reached for his hand with the bite marks on it. Holding it up for him to see. 

"We did this..?" he asked. She nodded her head. He thought he remembered parts but his mind was mostly empty. His back, he thought, there must be a million scratches on it. 

"Sansa, I don't want to hurt you," he said the fear in his voice. "I didn't...I don't understand.."

"You didn't hurt me. I wanted.." Searching for the right words, she hesitated before saying, "I wanted to see the darkness."

Jon felt sick to his stomach. Pushing her off his lap, he stood. _I love her_. "I'm not Joffery, I'm not Ramsey," he told her almost yelling. "I'm not that. I don't want to become that." She stared at him. Jon felt himself drowning in her deep blue eyes. 

"Jon..we aren't them.." her eyes searching for him. "We're wolves."

"Am I?" he asked. "Am I, Sansa? Would a wolf do that to you?" The look of recognition flashed across her face. 

Straightening  her back, she told him, "If I commanded him to, he would." Jon turned from her.

"We have to know the darkness, Jon. It's here. It's in us," Sansa pleading grabbed his arm. "The Long Night is here." He did not respond to her. He faced the fire, he could not look at her. 

"If you are going to leave me. I had to see. I had to see it in you," she said. "You've seen it in me. Every nightmare, every time I cry out. It's the darkness."

Jon did not want to look at her. He did not want to accept what she was saying. The truth in her words. 

"It's not the same," he insisted.

"Yes it is," was her response. "It looks different but it's the same." She leaned into his back. Her cheek against his shoulder blades.  Her hands grasping his arms. He felt the tears falling down his face. He hadn't cried since he discovered who his mother was. He let Sansa hold him. 

"I don't want to leave you," he said. 

"I know,"

Jon turned to face his Queen, running his hands through her hair. Kissing her cheek, finding his way to her mouth. He put her hands underneath her robe. Pushing her onto the bed, he kissed every part of her body as many times as he could before putting his cock inside her. It was slow and gentle. This time they both wept. They wept for their family, they wept for the North, they wept for winter, mostly they wept for themselves. 

They both fell asleep shortly after Jon spilled his seed in her. Their tears had gone dry. His arms wrapped around her body. 

Jon watched himself walk toward the hearth picking up Dawn, staring at the sword in the firelight. Turning, towards his Queen, he walked back to the bed, raising the sword high above her.  Her blue eyes opened in terror. Seeing him, her face turned to a smile. The words, "My Love," on her lips.  He plunged the sword into her heart. The white sheets turned red with her blood. He pulled the sword out, the blade gleamed red and white, and was so warm to the touch. 

Gasping for air, Jon shot up in bed. He could barely breathe, _What had he done, What had he done?_ He felt a soft hand on his wrist. 

"Jon," she whispered, "What's wrong," He looked over to see Sansa's blue eyes staring up at him. For a moment, he mistook her hair for pools of blood, before remembering she had just spoken to him.

"Just a dream," he said. "Go back to sleep." Laying back down, he felt her wrap her arms around him.  He thought he saw her glance at the sword still by the hearth. 

"I know, my love," she said kissing his neck.

The next morning he woke before she did. Breaking his fast and preparing the last of his things for the journey. He decided to take Dawn. He would practice fighting with both Longclaw and the sword from Starfall. The sword felt oddly warmer than it had the night before. It's milk-white blade looked as if it had hints of red in it. _It couldn't be_ he thought as he stared at a sleeping Sansa. 

It was still dark as the King and his men prepared to ride out.  Sansa joined them in the yard along with Ashara Dayne, Brienne, and Lady Mormont. He would miss the little bear, who was turning into quite the fighter. Jon had no doubt Brienne would continue to train her well. 

Watching Lady Dayne say her farewells to her lover, Lord Reed, Jon thought he would even miss the mysterious lady, too. He did not particularly trust her and he could not comprehend where in seven hells she had gotten all her gold. Still, he would miss her odd company. Yet, nothing could compare to leaving Sansa. _My heart is breaking more than hers._

Jon held his Queen for as long as possibly when he said goodbye, promising he would be back as soon as he could. He did not care if his men saw or what anyone thought.  She whispered in his ear. "There is something for you in your bags. Please don't open it until the evening." Jon gave her a curious look.

"It is just something I found. I thought you would like it," she added.

He smiled, "Thank you, Sansa," 

"Good bye, Jon," she said. 

Jon kissed her one last time before climbing onto his horse. Motioning for the gates to be opened, the King in the North led his small group of men out into winds of winter. Jon turned back to look at his Queen one last time, the torches in the yard lit Sansa's hair reflecting the light. She was radiant, his Queen kissed by fire. The journey would be one long night without her by his side. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter in A Light in the North. I was a bit worried that it wouldn't feel like it wasn't coming together but I'm really happy with it. 
> 
> It is certainly meant to leave lots of open questions. 
> 
> This is has been so much fun to write. I can't wait to continue Jon and Sansa's (and all their friends, enemies, conspirators, etc.) story in Part 3. I'm calling it The Longest Night. 
> 
> Thank you to all my readers and commenters. You guys are great.


	21. Bonus Chapter - Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The past, the future, did not matter. All who had died, All who lived, The spice traders, The dragon queen, The bravosi. They did not matter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was not going to add another chapter to this work. The story almost immediately continues in Pt. 3 of this series The Longest Night. 
> 
> Buuuuttttt...I thought doing a little bonus chapter/epilogue would be a nice little treat for readers.   
> This also gives you a bit of background on the mysterious Lady Dayne. ;-)

 "I think it is time for me to retire," Ashara Dayne whispered in Lord Reed's ear. He agreed and took her hand to escort her from the small leaving feast to the rooms they shared. As they walked through Winterfell's halls, she rested a hand on her growing belly rested her head on his shoulder. They were of the same height. She liked that about the small man. Just as she liked his moss green eyes that saw so much and gazed at her with warmth or his once sandy hair that had turned salt and pepper over the years.  

At the door to their chambers, she told him, "Go back to the feast, my love. I must rest." Adding, "And when you return, we will have a proper goodbye." She watched Howland walk back down the torchlit hallway. He would ride to Castle Black with the King to retrieve his daughter and young Brandon Stark. Though she would miss him, he would return to sooner than the King. For that she was thankful. 

Taking off her heavy gown, she slipped into a deep red woolen silk robe lined with black sable, tieing it above her belly. She pulled her thick black hair with sliver streaks down and let it fall around her shoulders. Before Ashara could rest, she knew she was required to send a message. It was nothing she wanted. She went to her trunk, opening it, she found a long rod wrapped in a black velvet. Carefully, unrolling it and standing the twisted black glass in the center of the room. It began to glow a strange light. The room changed colors, the shadows grew darker than the shadowlands of Asshai, she thought. 

Waiting for the shadow and lights to form shapes in the room, Ashara saw the city of Quarth before her. Closing her eyes, she willed her own image to appear to the spice traders. 

_The plan is in motion,_

"And the bravosi?" they asked. 

_The maid will slay him,_

"And the dragons?" they asked. 

_They are needed. The great war, a second war for the dawn is coming,_ _An alliance will be made, a queen betrayed, not until all comes to pass will the dragons end._

"Remember why we freed you, Quaithe."

_To watch over the King and Queen in the Long Night._

"No,"

_To end the dragons' rule,_

"And"

_To be your eyes and ears,_

"And"

_To make you very rich,_

"Now, Quaithe, you see that was easy. Watch over this King and Queen if you must. They matter naught to us." 

_To you I am Quaithe, in the west, I am Ashara Dayne,  the blood of Dorne, a Lady of Starfall. They matter to Ashara. They matter in the Great War. They will bring the dawn._

"When the dawn brings gold and silver to our coffers, the price will be paid, you will have your freedom."

_The long night is here. If we do not survive there will be no gold._ The shadows of the spice masters had already begun to fade and they did not hear these last words. In their place, dragons appeared flying in the sky above an island of dragonglass. The shadows of dragons filled the room, raining fire down upon armies of the living and the dead. Ashara could only watch for so long before she had to throw the velvet cloth over the candle.  Collapsing into her chair, she placed one hand on her heart and one on her belly. 

It had been so many years since the darkness had seeped into her mind. She feared it would come again. _What if I can not make the spice traders rich? They can send for me, take me from my child, from my love._ Her breath grew heavier and heavier. Steadying herself, she watched the flames in the hearth. Another wave a guilt fell upon her. _The King should not be leaving the Queen. And yet it is the only way to fight the army of the dead. I am foolish to push this alliance._ Another voice in her head reminded Ashara, that it was the only way to slay the dragons. Her thoughts oscillating between the Quartheen traders and the perils of the dragon queen. 

Closing her eyes, she rested until the door opened awhile later. Lord Reed returned from the feast, his face slightly more flushed than before. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, "My love, lay down," he said. 

"We must finish your mark," she said. "It will not take long." 

He gave her a half smile, "You don't have too. You're tired."

"For your protection, I must," she said. Ashara re-heated water that had been used earlier and went again to her trunk, seeking her needles and ink. While, Howland pulled off his tunic and laid on the bed. 

Straddling him, she ran her hands along his back. A lizard lion eating it's on tail underneath a falling star had already been expertly crafted on the crannogman's back. She etched snow and symbols of protection around them. 

"You know I will not go North of the Wall," he reminded. 

"Not yet," she said continuing her work. It did not take her long to add to the original tattoo. Wiping the blood away, she covered his back with oil. Putting away her tools, she laid on the bed next to him. They faced each other, she admired his muscular chest. Lord Reed was not some overfed aging Lord. He was still a man in his prime, small but strong. 

Lord Reed reached for the ties of her robe pulling the front open, exposing her bulging breasts. They had grown so very large. 

"Do you remember when we first met?" she asked. 

"Yes, at Harrenhal. I had come from the Isle of Faces,"

"And you told us about it." she added. 

"I told Ned about it. You snuck into the tent part way through the story," he said. 

Ashara laughed at the memory, "And then we drank too much."

"You brought the dornish wine, my love." Lord Reed reminded her. Moving his hands over her growing belly. 

"We were so young," she said. Her mind went that warm tent in the year false spring. Ned, and Howland and her playing a kissing game. A kissing game that became so much more. Her voice grew sad and she shook her head, "Maybe...if we hadn't been so...maybe if Ned had gone to see what Lyanna was doing. Remember he wanted to at first."

"How could we know," Lord Reed told her cupping her face and kissing her. _I was to be Ned's lady. Ned even japed that Howland could live with us. All together in Dorne or in a Keep in the North. Then Lyanna ran off and the war came and our dreams seemed so silly._

"And now the ink is dry," she smiled feeling the sadness in her heart. Howland had saved her that night so many years ago at Starfall. The night before Ned left with the tiny babe, Jon Snow. And each time they made love it felt as if he saved her again.  

"If not, the King in the North and his Queen would not be here. We would not be here. Our child would not be coming into this world," he reminded her. "Our child."  _They lived because others died._   _Only death pays for life,_ she had been told in the Shadow Lands of Asshai in the long years of her self-imposed exile.

"Our child will be born during the long night," she said running her hands along his arms. The muscles were defined so beautifully, Ashara thought herself lucky to be in bed with this man. 

"And the old gods will protect it," Lord Reed said. "And we will protect our child."

Ashara leaned to kiss her lover, he pulled her closer. He gently removed the robe from her shoulders. Her hands found the laces to his breeches, pushing down his pants. They were both naked, their skin glowing in the candlelight. Her stomach was not as large as it would soon grow, still, it was easier when he pulled her on top of him. He slid into her with a firm grip on her round hips. She moved back and forth on top of him. His hand found her bud and rubbed it while she started to move faster. Nails digging into his chest, she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Her body tensed before it went numb. _The past, the future, did not matter. All who had died, All who lived, The spice traders, The dragon queen, The bravosi. They did not matter._ All worries left her mind.He came soon after she did with a long sigh. 

Laying in his arms, words would not come to Ashara. They both fell asleep in the warm room. She woke some hours later to him gathering his things preparing to leave. He broke his fast with her, telling her, he expected to be back with his daughter and the Princeling in a moon's turn. She spoke little, though she rarely had words in the morning hours. 

When she joined the Queen in the courtyard to see the King's party off, it was still dark. _It will be dark for a very long time._  Ashara saw that the darkness had already begun to seep into the Queen's heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story continues in Pt. 3 of the Lady and the Wolf series, The Longest Night.   
> I have a bunch of upcoming chapters in that work that I'm really excited about!


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